Extremum Judicium [Peregrine x Huntress]

It couldn’t be avoided; she had felt it, technically she had been behind it. Sister Frances had unwillingly created severe tension between the two of them because of her embarrassment. It had been blatantly obvious, and she had thought there was no way to come out of it. That would be it, from here on out, her relationship with this volunteer would be nothing but awkward, confusing and distracting. Nice job. She told herself. The thought caused her to grimace. You couldn’t just— before she could finish telling herself off, Sister Frances found herself frozen in place as words entered her ears and caused her expression to grow wide. Oh no…IDIOT! In her mind, the young nun was occasionally rather aggressive with herself, she found that the harshness helped her realize things that otherwise would go by unnoticed. There was a small exhale of disappointment that escaped her as she shook her head the tiniest bit. Clenching her jaw she looked at Seraphina from the other side of the car as she cleared her throat. “No.” she shook her head again. “You don’t need to apologize Seraphina. You did nothing wrong.” She explained and got in the car with a heavy sigh.

At this point, hiding her embarrassment was a waste of time. Her cheeks were still red, her skin still hot. There was nothing she could do about it; Sister Frances’ system had gone into embarrassment overdrive. Even though she told herself that she couldn’t decipher those spine-tingling, stomach knotting sensations, deep down she knew exactly what they were and what she had been feeling. “I really appreciate how you handled that situation. I’m not a fan of confrontation to be honest.” She cleared her throat as she stole a glance at the volunteer before starting the car. “I have difficulties standing my ground.” She swallowed back as she put the van in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. Feeling Sera’s eyes on her made the young nun completely avoid looking in the direction of the passenger seat unless necessary. “So, thank you for that.” Another clench of her jaw. “I just want you to know, that you have nothing to worry about. As for myself, I am okay. I will be fine.” This is just a test. She told herself as she glanced towards the young woman once more, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

That’s in the past. You are repenting for those sins.

Another storm was soon to roll in. At this pace, the colourful autumn leaves would be blown away by mother nature’s rage and the cold grasp of winter would take hold sooner than anyone would like. The evening had gone rather smoothly, Sister Frances had the assistance of Seraphina for the whole afternoon and well into the evening. The young volunteer had even decided to stay for supper. Most of the volunteers never really accepted the offer, they hadn’t known what they were missing in truth. Sister Ophelia was a phenomenal cook, her meals were always hearty and delicious.

It was towards the end of dinner time that the storm had began to grow vicious. The rain was beating against the old building, windows creaking against brutal gusts which eventually led to the orphanage being consumed by darkness. Some of the children obviously grew afraid, but candles and lanterns were quick to be found, bringing a warm glow to the interior of Saint Emiliani’s. It had taken just a little bit of extra work to get the children to sleep, promises of keeping watch were made, and with the help of Seraphina most of the children eventually fell asleep rather soundly. The storm hadn’t seemed like it would be letting up any time soon. Sister Frances was quick to offer Seraphina one of the spare rooms, after the deed was approved by her superiors. The young nun had brought her sheets and pillow cases, even offering one of her nightgowns to Seraphina if she wished to sleep in something less form fitting. The young woman knew where to find whatever she needed and was left to her own devices once Sister Frances felt she had offered all she could with a goodnight and a bright smile.

For as long as she could remember, Sister Frances always had a little trouble sleeping under a storm. Peculiar dreams of ironsmiths and forges seemed to startle her with every flash of lightning and every crack of thunder. The sound of metal being hammered was distant, the thunder certainly more prominent in her half-asleep state.

The whispers were distant, in a foreign tongue. Their Footsteps were light, a scuffle here or there, just loud enough to cause her features to wrinkle. Chains rattled, links clanking against one another, as If they were being pulled out of a bag. The whispers were muttered faster.

Faces flashed behind eyes that darted beneath closed lids and a worried expression.

There was a sudden growing tightness around her throat. Out of instinct her hands reached up and took hold of whatever had been wrapped around her throat. Fighting against the force that pulled her back she began to choke. Gasping for air she felt the same cold grip tighten around her ankles. Staring down at her legs she noticed the bindings. They pulled, the large faceless men that were hidden in shadows. Restricting her movement as she fought against the choking chain around her throat. She couldn’t speak any words as she struggled against the force. Looking up she met the face of a grizzled man, his eyes a deep cobalt blue, his hair and beard reddish brown in colour. He snarled at her before his raised fist crashed down across her face.

The explosion of thunder shook the entirety of the orphanage.

Sister Frances gasped as she was startled awake by the trembling sound. Sitting up in her bed she heard the rattling of chains once again. An unknown force pulled her back down as she crashed into her mattress. Her wrist and ankles were shackled, chains wrapped around her stomach and her neck, the tension was strong enough that she felt stuck, staring at the ceiling of her room.

Thump, thump, thump…

The footfalls were heavy against hardwood floors, echoing through the room. The flash of lightning caused her to wince and close her eyes as she whimpered. The boards creaked; her eyes held shut tightly. The bed shifted, the springs under the stiff mattress squeaking. She could feel the warmth of someone or something on top of her.


“…Laila…” The voice was a sultry whisper that was followed by a chuckle. “…Mmm…” The moan rang through her ears as she felt a body press down against hers. She could feel the warm breath against the side of her face, a nibble at her earlobe. “WAKE UP!” The nun was startled by the words that had formed into a primal growl, her eyes shooting open as she gazed upon two burning crimson streaked, amber irises. A snarl followed and revealed a fanged maw of death.

Shooting up in bed with a small scream, Sister Frances tossed her sheets off in a panic and stumbled to the floor. Crawling to the corner furthest from the door she pressed her burning hot, sweat drenched forehead against the cold wall and closed her eyes with a frown. Her hand reached for the cross around her neck. Panting breaths led to rushed prayers asking for help in this moment of darkness. Her heart raced, rapidly, drumming through her skull as she grimaced against the pain. Her nose wrinkled slightly in a small snarl, brows knitting close together as she exposed fangs to no one in particular. Another strike of thunder had her eyes shooting open, a reflective shimmer glistening against the lightning as pupils dilated. Her right palm pressed against the wall, fingernails scraping against the paint. Closing her eyes, she felt a sharp pain in her chest that spread across her ribcage with immense discomfort. The pain showed in her face as she whimpered against it. Her left hand letting go of the cross to take hold of the edge of the wall that led to the window as she opened her eyes again.

Groaning against a tense back that felt like it was shifting unnaturally, the nun pulled herself up and stumbled towards the windowsill, the ridges of her spine pressing against her flesh as she caught the sound of movement before an ear-splitting squeal ripped through her skull. Grunting against the sudden sound she keeled forward slightly before it began to fade., fingernails digging into wood. Looking up towards the window she stumbled back as she caught sight of a distorted reflection that held glowing irises. The metal frame of the bed scraped against the floor upon collision. It caused the blonde to wince and cover her ears with a small, pained sound. The rumbling of a deep growl catching her attention off to the right, from the darkest corner of the room. Lightning revealing a large dark figure that faded with the moment of brightness, the deafening thunder masking the knocks at her door.

Catching the creak of hold hinges, Sister Frances looked over her shoulder towards the figure in her doorway. Turning around to fully face whoever was there, she narrowed her glowing eyes as she slowly walked towards the foot of the bed. Her vision hazing over slightly as she tilted her head to the right a little. Blinking a few times there was an intimidating growl that rumbled in her chest. Looking to the right again, into the dark corner, Sister Frances flared her nostrils and exhaled before she looked down at herself then back up towards whoever stood in the doorway. “Hello?” She croaked out a whisper.

Was this figure even real?
 
As she listened to Sister Frances’ reassurances, Sera studied the other woman for a moment. After half a beat, she nodded her head. “Alright,” she agreed. The Sister didn’t seem to be lying, about any of it, and Sera could only accept her response. “I’m glad I was able to help, then. If there’s anything… anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

The subsequent drive was a little bit awkward for the two, but as they settled back into the rhythm of shopping things grew more comfortable again. Additionally, there were no further events for the day, which made things easier.

It was late afternoon by the time they returned to the orphanage, the light as dim as dusk due to the heavy cloud cover that had built overhead. The car’s suspension sagged under the weight of enough groceries to feed a small army. Or, perhaps, a room full of hungry children. Both of them carried armloads of bags towards the orphanage’s kitchen, rapidly filling the dwindling pantry.

By the time they finished with everything, the sun had fully set. Outside, the trees were buffeted by a fierce wind. Sera agreed to stay for dinner the moment she was asked, her stomach already growling faintly at the smells that were coming out of the kitchen. The meal passed quickly and happily, filled by the chatter of the children.

In truth, it took little more effort to convince Sera to stay for the night, although she was careful not to let it be that apparent. She finally ‘folded’ when Sister Frances pointed out that the storm was raging in full force outside, and she didn’t have any sort of transportation to save herself from a long and cold soaking if she walked back to campus now. However, in truth, Sera had never been planning to go far from the orphanage tonight. The image of a can crumpling in Sister Frances’ hands had played in her mind’s eye over and over that evening.

And while the Sister seemed to have forgotten about the incident, Sera was not ignorant of exactly what it could mean. Her bonds were loosening, and the chances that the Sister would have another accident, large or small, were growing greater and greater.

In her own room, Sera washed off the heavy layer of makeup on her face, changed into the Sister’s long, white nightgown, and settled herself on the bed. However, resting up against the headboard, Sera’s eyes never wavered from the far wall, open late into the night.

The lightning began shortly after midnight. Ten minutes later, Sera rose to her feet.

Like a ghost, she walked out into the hallway, heading for the Sister’s door. She stopped in front of it a moment later, hesitating for half a second. A moment later, she knocked on the door lightly. “Sister Frances?”

No response.

Sera knocked a couple more times, before steeling herself. Taking a deep breath, she opened on the door.

Her eyes immediately turned towards the figure that was crouched on the other side of the room. Her eyes were wide open, and reflected a brilliant orange light that existed nowhere. One hand had practically driven its nails into the wall.

“Sister,” Sera replied lightly to the worried half-greeting. “It’s me.”

She moved further into the room then, allowing the door to swing closed behind her. At a glance, she couldn’t tell how lucid the other woman was. Picking her words carefully in case the Sister asked her about it tomorrow, Sera moved closer. “Are you alright? I heard a strange noise.”
 
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It’s me. Who was me? She wondered as she narrowed her eyes and looked at the figure before her. Finally reaching the bed she stopped. Her breathing was deep and heavy, sweat running down her back, and beading on her forehead. Clenching her jaw, she looked the person before her up and down. They were tall, very tall and thin. But they wore the same clothes as her, were they in the same place? From the same place?

“What did you hear?” Sister Frances’ head tilted the other way as she began to walk around the bed. Did the figure hear the chains? Or the growling? Another flash of lightning revealed a pale face and dark hair, but that damned dark corner of the room still held something sinister. Sister Frances’ head snapped to the right, a growl escaping from her snarled expression and towards the looming threat that she swore was waiting for her.

Glancing back towards the potential figment of her imagination, there was another once over before she started to move towards the dark corner. Staying on the edge of the abyss before her, she tried to look into the black veil, but failed to make out any shapes.

Chains rattled along with the heavy footfalls that approached her.

The young sister frowned as she whimpered slightly in worry.

Shimmering links shot forth from the darkened corner. Wrapping around her arms, neck and stomach, she was pulled into the darkness.

Stumbling into the corner with a choked cough, Sister Frances scrambled across the floor trying to save her fall and succeeding before crawling into the corner. Facing the seam where the two walls connected, she shuddered and kept her eyes shut tight with a whimper. What was happening? Why was this happening?

The heavily padded foot falls circled her, chains dragging against the hardwood floor of her room. The bone rattling growl was never ending. The sensation of the cold bindings returned, clamping shut against her wrists and ankles, her neck was spared but her torso was not. The metal went from shuddering cold to burning hot in seconds, singeing her flesh.

There was a subtle sob from the sister, her forehead pressed into the corner she had stumbled into. Hands up on either side of her, fingers digging into the old drywall, threatening to crack it as the bones in her hands shifted. The disturbing pops and snaps of sinew were uncontrolled. The scarring on her wrists, ankles, neck and midriff growing more evident, the shapes starting to match the visual of chains burnt into flesh. More parts of her form began to distort, swelling and changing; seams burst as fabric tore. But nothing was permanent, just an extended period of pain for the whimpering nun who was doing her best to stay quiet as her body literally mutated in preparation to harbor destruction and chaos.

As she felt some of the pain subside. She sniffled, her bottom lip quivering as her hands slid down the wall and rested against her thighs. Opening her eyes with shuddering breaths and dripping tears she frowned and sobbed as quietly as she could. Looking at her bloodied fingers she swallowed back. Only a moment later did she notice the glistening golden cross sprawled across the floor. Her eyes grew wide as she pushed back from the wall slightly. Picking up the cross she reached up towards her neck only to meet tender flesh. Running her thumb over the golden piece of jewellery, she seemed surprised. “Have you forsaken me?” She whispered dryly and clenched her jaw.

Shifting to sit on the floor, sister Frances leaned into the corner and brought her knees up close to her body. Her attention solely on the cross and its meaning. The creaking of the floorboards almost exploded through her ears. Catching her breath, she looked towards the sound with new vision, a much brighter but highly desaturated sense of sight. Someone stood in her room. Her eyes shimmered as her heart picked up the pace, an unintentional growl coming from the nun. Realizing what she was doing she stopped herself and cleared her throat. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to make out any defining features but failed to do so. The female figure wore a similar nightgown to hers. Was it another sister? They all knew about Sister Frances’ night terrors and none ever came in to interrupt her when she was in such a state.

Looking back down at the cross she went to clasp it shut but soon realized that it hadn’t been taken off properly. The chain had actually snapped. Gripping it tightly in her hand she slowly pushed herself up. Her form wobbling ever so slightly, every single fiber of her being twinged against the slightest movement. Her entire body was sore. The nightgown overall, looked a little more snug in places that had managed to survive and not tear against the brief changes that took place just moments ago. In combination with her profuse sweating, Sister Frances would’ve been rather embarrassed had she known that her nightgown had now become rather translucent in those damp, snug areas.

A surprising physique seemed to be hidden under the layers of the nun’s flowing grey and white habit. The large pieces of fabric she had to wear drowning the well toned musculature of her body. Her usually wavy hair was currently frazzled and damp. Some was sticking to her skin, while the rest of it seemed to go in random directions, as if to further showcase just how lost and confused the poor woman currently was. Her hair was usually a sweet and warm honey blonde, but in its current wet state, seemed a little darker. Swallowing back, she shuffled towards the other figure slowly. Blinking rapidly and rubbing her eyes in an attempt to clear her vision, which seemed to haze over every now and then. Sister Frances eventually came to a halt. Cutting a deep breath short in surprise when she had gotten close enough to make out the familiar features, she gulped back as her irises reflected the lightning from outside.

“Sera?” She managed to ask before the sound of thunder shook the building again.

The young volunteer looked surprisingly different without all the layers of make-up the Sister had been used to seeing, and it wasn’t necessarily in a bad way.

“Have you been here long?” Her words were grainy, her throat had been incredibly dry. Looking away she swallowed back and cleared her throat before trying to stand tall, an embarrassed but shy glance was stolen as her stomach fluttered. Scoffing at herself Sister Frances closed her eyes and shook her head. “I—I’m sorry if I woke you.” She mumbled. “I get night terrors.” She explained, looking up towards Sera like an animal that had knowingly done something wrong. “They tend to get bad during storms.” She smirked sadly and looked away. “I should’ve offered you a room that was further away.” The nun stated with a hint of sadness in her words.

Scolding herself internally for being an inconvenience and disruption to the volunteer’s sleep, Sister Frances looked back up at Sera. She had offered her the room and everything during a storm, how didn’t she think of that when she was helping with the pillows and blankets? You were too distracted by your excitement. Excitement towards things you shouldn’t be feeling or even thinking about. Breaking eye contact once more she clenched her jaw towards her thoughts. Her eyes fixed on the floor, unblinking as she processed an array of internal debates and arguments. “I’m sorry.” She muttered again, although she didn’t bother to look up at Sera this time.

Opening up her hand she looked at the cross, studying it she sighed heavily and eventually looked at the other with a subtle smile that was quick to fade. Was this her punishment? Or was it her test? Is this how she had to prove her faith? To fight against this unnatural pull she felt towards this stranger? Was this her vice?

Why? Was all she could ask herself.
 
Caught in an endless loop of uncertainty, Seraphina didn't dare move further into the room. The burning anxiety in the middle of her chest urged her to rush forward, to offer the cowering Sister a hand, a hug, something to help stabilize and comfort her. Her obligations, her duties—and the fact that Sister Frances did not seem entirely stable at the moment—kept her in place.

She couldn't risk what results would come about if her comfort wasn't well received. If the Sister hated her presence, and if she was lucid enough to remember all this tomorrow, it could destabilize the bond she'd worked so hard to build with the other woman over the past week. Worse yet, if she felt pressured, attacked, invaded... endangered by Sera's approach, and she lashed out? That result could cause all hell to break loose.

Of course, Seraphina knew that, eventually, this peaceful time would have to end. Already events were accelerating towards their proper course, and this thunderstorm was only more proof of that. But if Sera could maintain it, even for another day, she considered it worth the effort.

So how could she move? But, seeing the young woman like that, how could she not?

Her stasis born from confusion abruptly tipped at a half-muttered phrase from the Sister. Sera was moving before she even realized she'd made a decision, kneeling carefully in front of Sister Frances. She positioned herself slightly outside of arm's reach, hoping that the distance would balance her desire to offer comfort and closeness to the nun, while also preventing her from feeling threatened.

"Hey," she said softly, voice sweet but firm. "You're not forsaken. I'm here. I promise."

Sera had no way of knowing if her words helped, or if they even reached Sister Frances, but she watched the other carefully, trying to keep her eyes trained on nothing but the Sister's face. Her patience gradually began to pay off, as she saw the Sister's eyes slowly returning to focus. Finally, they seemed to meet eye to eye.

"I'm right here, Sister," she agreed, before a small frown crossed her face. "I'm glad you didn't put me further away. You shouldn't have to be both scared and alone. I'm glad I was here."

Convinced that the Sister wasn't going to suddenly lash out, Sera crept a little bit closer. One hand reached out to the sweat-soaked woman, gently wrapping around her shoulder. "How are you feeling?"
 
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Her skin tingled all over, insides churning. It was something she hadn’t felt in time. Perhaps it was simply the idea that someone was showing care for her after so long that made her feel this way. She hoped that’s what it was. The other sisters and the children showed a different type of caring and kindness. It’s just a feeling…nothing more, nothing less. A kind soul coming across your path. Sister Frances swallowed back as she watched Sera step closer and place a hand on her shoulder. Her cold touch was surprising enough to have the Sister glance towards the woman’s hold. Uneasiness crawling up her spine. Her gaze followed the line of Sera’s arm and up to her eyes. Blinking a few times, she tilted her head to the right slightly.

Whoosh.

She heard the sound and even dared to say that she felt the gusts against the back of her neck. As if a large flying creature had just pushed itself passed her at a dangerously close distance. The confusion soon grew evident on her face. Eyes narrowing slightly as her brows knitted closer together before arching upward slightly in worry. Her heart thumping loudly a couple times. She watched Sera, studying her features, dark brows, high cheekbones, slightly upturned nose. Her features were delicate but strong. A growl unknowingly rumbled in her chest, it was subtle and halted upon realization. Embarrassment burned the sister’s cheeks in the darkness. Clearing her throat, she looked away with an exhale from her nose before looking back up towards Sera. “I’m just a little disoriented.” She let out a small, awkward chuckle-esque sound before dropping her gaze again. “I think I just have to regain my be–”

Her words were cut off by a visual, eyes unknowingly shifting colours as Laila found herself witnessing a scene that was the opposite of her current situation.

The sky had been bright, blindingly so, overblown by the glow of the sun. It stung her corneas. A hand came up to block the brightness as she felt herself stepping back. Looking down against the clunking of heavy leather boots she felt the gust of air again. There was a surprised gasp as she looked up, the silhouette of the figure before her making her heart skip a beat. Features couldn’t be made out, although seemingly male in shape and size, the most obscure thing about the person was the single set of flapping, feathered appendages. Dropping her arm, she stepped back further, the glint of a blade coming into view before it and its wielder came rushing forward.

Stumbling back in her current place, Sister Frances rushed further back from Seraphina with a gasp as her hand came up defensively and her heart raced. She felt a burning sensation on the lower left part of her stomach, just above her hip. Looking down as she put her hand over the phantom wound, the blonde stared wide-eyed at the other woman in the room. Her breaths were deep, her torso visibly rising and falling as Laila slowly calmed herself from the brief and confusing moment, was she still not fully awake? Was this all still part of her nightmare?

She had a very strong feeling that Sera— if that’s who was standing before her, and not a figment of her imagination— was a danger. A threat, unsafe. It was something that the Sister was finding hard to believe, that thought process in itself was enough to convince her that this was most likely part of the terror she was going through in her sleep. She genuinely hoped that in a few hours she’d be waking up to just another day at the orphanage taking care of the children.

“I uh–” She cleared her throat. “I think I’m just going to try and go back to sleep.” Even if this was a dream, Sister Frances continued to keep her distance from Sera as she walked towards her bed. “Thank you for umm, coming to check on me Sera, I appreciate it. I’m sorry for waking you in the middle of the night like that.” Sister Frances apologized as she stood on the other side of her bed, keeping her eyes on the brunette and fiddling with the cross in her hand. She’d wait for the other to leave before locking the door behind her and attempting to sleep again.

If it wasn’t too late for that.
 
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Even in the darkness, it was impossible for Seraphina to miss the changes taking place around Sister Frances. Consciously, the young woman kept herself calm. It wasn't as though any of this was unexpected. Sera had come here on a mission, and she understood exactly what it entailed.

All the same, she couldn't help the way her heart dropped when she saw the distrust bloom in the Sister's eyes, power momentarily staining her irises golden.

Sera kept herself still, even as Sister Frances once more retreated towards the edge of her room, putting as much distance between them as the space would allow. However, the Sister's subsequent statement left the dark-haired woman feeling co. She understood the implicit request. It was time for her to leave.

The Sister's flare-up had already mostly subsided, at least for the moment. Strictly speaking, there was no reason for Sera to stay. She could go back to her own room and allow the Sister to rest, wait for the morning. By then the Sister would have had time to calm down, and they would hopefully be able to pick up where they left off this evening.

Hopefully. If the distrust, the traces of fear that still lingered in her eyes didn't get in the way.

Could one bad encounter truly have ruined all the work Sera had put in during the last week? If it could, was there anything she could even do about it?

Was she going to fail before she'd even begun?

Unwilling to just leave the matter up to fate, Sera hesitated. "Are you sure you... wouldn't like company for a little bit? Just until you feel ready to sleep. I'd be happy to stay."
 
As cautious eyes did a once over of the figure before her, Laila was quick to snap her attention back up to Sera’s gaze as she spoke. Her stomach fluttered, warmth tingling across her chest as she let out a small breath. Company. She repeated the word in her mind as she broke eye contact. Once again cheeks grew rosy, these clashing feelings and warnings were starting to frustrate the blonde. You can’t. You shouldn’t. Sister Frances had to remind herself. I want to. Wanting was your downfall. She let out a small sound that seemed to mix frustration and worry. Turning to the side and looking down at her cross the nun clenched and unclenched her jaw as she exhaled heavily. Looking up at the crucifix that hung above her bed she sighed before finally turning to look at Sera yet again. A distant lightning strike illuminated the room for a split-second. The combination of little sleep and the possibility that this was all still a dream had the Sister shrugging off the visuals of monstrous shadows and black feathers that she witnessed.

If it’s just a dream does it matter? She pondered internally as she remained silent. Of course it does! You are being tempted, he is reaching out for you and he is trying to drag you down. If you dream of it, you are letting him in and you are allowing yourself to fall right back into his clutches. Do not let him win.

“Yes.” Sister Frances finally spoke as she turned to face the other. “I— I mean–” She stuttered quickly as she moved towards the foot of her bed. Still maintaining a safe distance from the other, clutching the broken necklace in her hands. “Yes, I would like you to stay…f-for a little bit…” Her shoulders came up in a tense shrug as she let out a long exhale. Looking from Sera to her bed and back, Laila swallowed back as she felt her heart thump loudly. She wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or fear.

Coming around the other side of her bed she paid close attention to Sera as she walked past the woman and took a seat on the stiff mattress, close to her pillow. Placing the cross on her nightstand, Sister Frances pushed some hair behind her ear before folding her hands into her lap. She looked into her palms, exposed wrists showing hints of scarring, both self-inflicted and seemingly external. There were some barely visible needle marks, mixed with what looked like attempted suicide scars. What had caught Laila’s eye though, were the markings that seemed new. Bringing her left wrist up to examine it closer she pulled the sleeve of her nightgown back a bit. Her eyes shimmering as she heard the hammering of metal.

“...but if it is made with art and trickery…” she muttered as she was snapped out of her trance by the sound of a yowling man and the tangy familiar taste of blood. A briefly vicious gaze flicked up towards Sera. As amber and crimson irises faded, so did the vicious glare, her features softening. Laila cleared her throat and lowered her arm. Taking hold of herself she looked to the mattress before stealing a glance at Sera then looking away. “Sorry.” She muttered another apology as she slowly gained the courage to look at the other woman again. The word had just come out naturally, Laila wasn’t sure why she was apologizing in truth. Perhaps it had just been out of habit.
 
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Seraphina had never imagined that a few, simple words could bring her so much relief. Yet, there was absolutely no denying the tidal wave of emotion that flooded through her heart as Sister Frances spoke. She wanted Sera to stay. She was willing to accept her company. Sera's efforts hadn't been in vain.

"Then I'll stay," Sera agreed. "...For a little bit."

Carefully, slowly, as though hoping not to spook the other woman, Sera approached her bed and settled herself carefully on the mattress. There was a couple of feet of distance between them, each of them seated on one extremity of the mattress. But it was still the closest Sera had gotten to the Sister since she'd entered the room.

They didn't speak for a few moments, and Sera glanced carefully over towards the Sister, wondering if she was okay, or if she was regretting agreeing to let sera stay. Instead, she saw the other woman studying marks and scars that ran up and down her arm.

Seraphina didn't know anything about Sister Frances' past. Apparently, the information wasn't deemed necessary for Sera to complete her mission, even if the woman disagreed with the assessment slightly. However, she knew that Sister Frances' life thus far couldn't have been easy. After all, her life was never destined to be easy. But Sera's eyes lingered for a moment on the marks that covered her arms. Not just the scars and signs of abuse, but also the markings that stood somewhere between scars and tattoos, so faint as to almost be indistinct against her skin.

Chains.

Sera truly was running out of time.

But, maybe, just maybe, she'd be prepared when the moment finally came.

As the Sister lifted her eyes from her arms, Sera also averted her head. She didn't want to be caught staring, fearing the Sister would find it rude. However, her eyes turned back almost immediately at the sound of Sister Frances' apology.

"You don't need to apologize," Sera replied immediately. Her nightmares, her distrust, none of them were her fault. Sera considered it nearly a miracle that, even after everything that had happened this evening, the Sister hadn't driven her out of the room. "None of this is your fault. So you don't have to apologize. Not to me."

If she was being honest, Sera felt that she was the one who had to apologize, not the Sister. Apologize for not being there to protect her in the past. Apologize for the things that would inevitably come in the future. Apologize for the shock she would inevitably feel when she realized how much Sera was hiding from her. But, Sera was hiding things from her, so she couldn't apologize right now.

She'd have to save it for later.

"Would you... like to talk about it?" Sera asked, moderately hesitant. "I'm a really good listener, and you might feel better if you share."
 
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Sister Frances let out a small breath that could pass as a brief chuckle. Her smile ever so subtle, pulling at the corner of her lips as a she looked to the floor and nodded. She went to speak but stopped herself as she realized she was about to apologize for apologizing. Dummy. She commented internally as she took in a deep breath and exhaled heavily before looking back up towards Sera. “I think it’s just something that’s been ingrained into my mind.” She spoke quietly. “To apologize about everything.” She explained. Her eyes stayed for a moment but were quick to break away the second she felt their gazes lock. Sighing she cleared her throat and shifted on the bed slightly, turning her form to face Seraphina. Back towards the cross on her night table. “I— uh…I’m not quite sure what we could talk about…what there is to talk about. I’m not even sure if this is real.” She chuckled slightly with an open smile. “These night terrors are tricky. Some of the uh—” Laila stopped herself and cleared her throat. Waving the incomplete sentence aside, the blonde simply looked away and sighed heavily.

“It worries me.” She started, stealing a glance at Sera again. If it’s a dream you’re only speaking to yourself. Sister Frances told herself. Perhaps it was simply a justification, an excuse to talk to someone, real or not. “The umm…night terrors. The things I see and hear or even feel.” She swallowed back. “In the past…” She exhaled from her nose; did she want to divulge this? Seraphina was a total stranger. If this was a dream, sure it didn’t matter, but did that mean that she’d be willing to just open up like that to a stranger? To just give up everything she held inside to someone that was simply being nice to her? Could she trust someone so easily? Another sigh escaped her as she once again shied away with a subtle frown. The Sister scoffed and shook her head.

The hairs on the back of her neck had been standing at attention from the moment she had been warned about the woman she sat next to. The fear of the potential threat before her hadn’t gone away, Laila had just done her best to push passed it and trust that this good Samaritan wouldn’t cause her pain, sorrow or betrayal. Was that another flaw? Was it something that could be fixed? Was it wrong for Sister Frances to do the opposite of what her body told her and trust what she had experienced with Sera instead? If this even is Sera. She reminded herself as lightning crackled in the distance, illuminating the woman before her. Another sigh as the nun turned to look out the window behind them before coming to look at Sera again.

It had been just over a week of Seraphina volunteering at the orphanage and whatever Sister Frances had needed, she was there. But that was her job. This was professional. They worked together. Sure there may have been an incident or two where Sera had helped Laila in particular, but could that not have been choked up to Sera just being a genuinely nice person? It didn’t have to revolve around herself, and it most likely had no relation to her. So why did Laila think it had anything to do with her? Desperation leads to disillusion. A sharp exhale from flared nostrils. The thought process had the sister wondering if she was genuinely attracted to Sera or the idea of her; and if that was the case then why was she here? As a member of a convent? Was she that weak that she couldn’t even stick to her vows…all because someone was nice to her after years of feeling like she was non-existent to anyone or anything? Her sound of frustration was subtle as the sadness welled in her eyes. A failure even when there’s nothing to fail at. Her exhale was a hiss from behind set teeth. A clenched jaw followed as she swallowed back and wiped away any escaped tears.

Sniffling and taking in a deep breath Sister Frances sat up straight and looked at Seraphina. “Why is it that you are so kind to me Sera? When you don’t need to be?” She asked. “You don’t seem to give the other Sisters as much attention if any at all. You also almost seem to go out of your way to help me, even if it may be unnecessary. Why is that?” Laila clenched her jaw as she did her best to keep her eyes on Sera and not falter.

Worse came to worse, this was all simply part of her nightmare, and for once a night terror may end on a blissfully sinful note. If not, she found out a truth that would get her to stop over thinking and analyzing herself, her actions and the things that happened around her. Was there a reason Sera was so kind to the nun? Was there some other motive? Was there an attraction? A situation that required light treading? Or was Seraphina simply an incredibly rare human being that was kind, genuine and caring?

Sister Frances just wanted the truth.
 
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Seraphina settled more fully on the bed as Sister Frances began to speak, placing her hands behind her back so that she could support herself as she leaned backwards. The mattress sank slightly under her weight, the bed letting out a faint creaking sound. Sera kept her eyes trained on the far wall, not really looking at what she was seeing. The lack of eye contact was as much to hide her own surging emotions as it was her hoping not to distract the other woman.

After all, Sera considered this a truly significant moment. If the Sister was willing to discuss these night terrors with her, it would greatly simplify the challenges Sera would have to face in the future to explain the truth to the woman, and get her to accept it. Even a small step could have a big future impact.

That was why Sera didn’t try to press her to speak on when she paused, even though the Sister had paused just before the conversation would have broached that all-important line of significance. She just waited, her fingers occasionally digging into the bed’s blanket in an attempt to keep herself calm and patient.

However, the words that followed were nothing like what Sera had been expecting. Instead of continuing to speak about her dreams, the Sister suddenly turned the conversation around. She didn’t keep talking about her night terrors, or even about herself. Instead, the focus of the conversation had suddenly switched to Sera and her actions.

For a moment, Sera felt her heart drop. However, she calmed down again only an instant later. Yes, it truly couldn’t be considered much of a surprise that Sister Frances had noticed that Sera was trying to build a relationship with the other woman. It was impossible for her not to stand out a little bit if she was at all heartfelt with her actions.

But how was she supposed to answer?

“Because…”

The words instantly died out in Sera’s throat. What could she say? Certainly not the truth. Not yet. Although time was marching ever closer to the moment when Sera would have no choice but to reveal the true reason behind her appearance at the orphanage, right now things were still peaceful. Normal.

But she couldn’t lie, either. She couldn’t say that she wasn’t trying to treat the Sister any different. Her actions were direct evidence against that. Nor could she simply say that she wasn’t doing it for any particular reason. No matter how she tried to phrase it, it was impossible for it to not come out sounding like an evasion, or simply dishonest.

So she needed to be honest. But only give the parts of the truth that were appropriate for the moment. And then hope that it would work out.

Sera’s thoughts might have been running a thousand miles a minute, but her pause hadn’t lasted more than a brief moment. “Because I feel like you deserve it?” the woman finally said, voice unconsciously pitching upwards as she finished her sentence.

For the first time since she had sat down, Sera’s grey eyes finally turned away from the wall, looking at Sister Frances with a mix of gentleness and solemnity. “Have you ever met someone like that, Sister? Someone who you’re just meant to care for… and your whole soul knows they deserve it?”
 
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Her eyes studied the figure opposite her. Capable of seeing every detail now, even in the thick darkness. If anything, the random flashes of light that crackled outside almost seemed to burn the sister’s corneas. Her winces were kept subtle as she allowed her pupils to try and adjust as quickly as possible when the darkness returned. There was a word. Laila swallowed back and exhaled. Her breathing had become loud in her ears. The thumping of her heart slamming against her ear drums. Nervous. Why was she nervous? What for? The truth she had asked for? She clenched her jaw, wanting to look away but she stopped herself. The tension in her form deflated as she managed to turn away slightly. She scoffed with an awkward smile as she looked towards the entrance to her room. Hands clasped together as they rested in her lap. Her cheeks tingled with pink as she hunched forward just a little. Closing her form off and trying to make herself small.

“But you don’t even know me.” She responded as she felt a fuzzy chill spread across her form. She briefly and shyly glanced towards Sera before looking back towards the floor, and eventually her hands in her lap. Sister Frances was curious to know what she had done to make this woman think she deserved her kindness. Surely if she had known about her past, she wouldn’t think the same. “I’m nowhere near being any sort of Saint.” She chuckled nervously and awkwardly. “I’m not sure why you’d think I deserve such kindness.” Laila explained as she rubbed her thumb across her opposite palm.

She could feel eyes on her. Sera’s eyes. Looking at the woman from behind her shoulder, she slowly raised her head as more words— or rather questions, came from the brunette. The redness grew deeper, embarrassment consuming the nun as she simply stared at the other for a moment. She went to speak but stopped herself, breaking eye contact again she felt intense fluttering in her stomach. With a slow nod she cleared her throat. “I have, yes…” She spoke quietly. “It uh– It was a one-way street for me.” She explained with evident sadness in her gaze as she looked at Sera again. “I– ahem, uhh…” the Sister exhaled sharply. “It ended poorly.” Blue eyes broke away from Sera with a blink.

Looking towards the door, then the floor and eventually the ceiling as she sniffled; In one simple motion she wiped the escaped tear and her nose. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach before a deep sigh came over the nun. Letting the heavy breath out she looked back to Sera. Still hunched forward, Laila now gripped the edge of the mattress on either side of her tightly. Would the volunteer feel the same if she divulged her past? Should she? Did she want to ? “Are you sure you feel that way about me? Why?” Her curiosity was genuine.
 
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"Do you think only saints can deserve kindness?" Sera replied, the response half-murmured, almost reflexive. She didn't push the matter after mentioning it. After all, that was far from the point of the conversation. This wasn't about some abstract individual, but about Sister Frances herself. And Sera would never doubt that she deserved kindness, perhaps more so than anyone else in the world.

Wasn't it the people who had the hardest jobs who most deserved it, after all?

Fortunately, perhaps, the Sister seemed lost within her own thoughts, wandering down paths Sera could only guess at, reliving memories she had no way of knowing. Even in the darkness, it was impossible for Sera to miss the single tear drop that rolled down the Sister's cheek. For a moment, the black-haired woman felt her heart tighten unexpectedly with worry and remorse. The Sister couldn't have lived an easy life, and Sera knew there would be hard times ahead of her again.

That was why she wanted to preserve this momentary peace for as long as it would last. Even if it was a futile effort, even if all her work might only give them a few extra days. Hopefully, they'd be able to hold this peace in their hearts in the future.

The Sister's voice instantly lured Sera out of her own thoughts once more, and she laughed slightly. "I'm sure," Sera replied, her voice stained with warmth. "It'd be pretty silly of me to be in here, talking with you at this time of night, if I didn't."

How Sera wished she could simply ignore the second half of the Sister's question. It was, after all, the more complicated one. The one where Sera would once again have to dance with words, to speak the truth without revealing that which should remain unspoken. Yet, Sera also figured it would be that half of the question that weighed most deeply on the Sister's mind.

"As for why... I guess, because I'm me, and you're you?" Sera's eyes flitted away for a moment. "Because this is the way it's meant to be? The bible tells us that God has a plan, and we are all a part of it. I feel like I'm meant to be here, doing this. So maybe this is all a part of His plan."
 
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Nodding towards Sera's statement about sitting with her at this time of night, Sister Frances smiled subtly and let out a small breath from her nose. The nun's gaze remained on the hardwood as she simply listened. Her smile widened a tad more. “We are indeed our own unique personalities.” She agreed with the other, a swift side glance flicking towards Sera. Returning her attention to the floorboards Laila's smile began to close-up. Swallowing back, she let out a deep sigh as the upwards curve in her lips turned sad for a moment and eventually faded into a thin line of understanding. “Of course.” Her scoff was subtle as she clenched her jaw, heart sinking. “He certainly has his way of dealing with things.” Her grip on the edge of the mattress tightened fingers digging into sheets.

Idiot. She uttered internally. Her face showed amusement in brief, as Sister Frances almost laughed at herself. The stranger off the street is more devoted than you are. She carried on internally. Why are you even here? What are you trying to prove? Flared nostrils were followed by another exhale. Clearing her throat, she raised her head and looked towards the door. “Thank you, Sera. For sitting around to talk to me. I really appreciate it.” She turned to look at her finally. “You helped me realize some things.” Emotions faded from the nun's face. “Once again, I wish to apologize for waking you. I understand you don’t mind helping me, and that doesn’t go unnoticed, trust me.” Laila's smirk seemed empty, simply an action of false reassurance. “Despite that, I should’ve done better in providing you accommodations that shouldn’t have been interrupted by my…personal issues.” She explained. “There’s a reason most of the adjacent rooms are empty, and I should’ve made a better judgement.” The Sister cleared her throat again. “I think I’d like to try and get some sleep before the start of the day.” She finished and swallowed back as she looked to the glinting cross on her night table.

I'll prove my worth. I’ll atone for my sins. I understand my purpose, a simple servant meant to live a solitary life. She sighed. “Thank you once again Sera.” She nodded towards the other, watching her and waiting for her to leave. She could only hold back the building emotions for so long. Perhaps she would ask for a new assignment within the convent. Cleaning seemed like a good option, minimal interactions, and no reason for her feelings to take her on any rollercoaster rides. Simple, repetitive tasks that could possibly help dull her mind or even maybe clear it. Like some sort of meditation. She’d ask and see what she was told. Sister Frances truly had no qualms with caring for the children, she simply felt like a change was needed. Just to make sure she didn’t stray from her path and whatever it was that god intended for her.
 
Sera winced slightly at the sound of Sister Frances' response. A moment later and she closed her eyes, hoping that the darkness would cover up her response. All the same, she couldn't miss the way her heart rate had sped up, how the palms of her hands had grown damp even as the back of her mouth suddenly seemed so dry.

Even someone who knew nothing about other people would be able to tell that the Sister hadn’t reacted well to Seraphina’s answer. What exactly was it in Sera’s reply that had earned that kind of reaction? Had Sera upset her? Whatever the case was, it was clear that Sister Frances hadn’t liked something she said.

It was impossible for her to take back her words. The only thing Sera could do at this point was try and salvage the situation.

"You... don't want to talk anymore?"

It should have been obvious. After all, the Sister’s words had been a clear dismissal. She wanted to sleep, it was time for Sera to leave. All the same, Sera didn’t want to leave yet. It would be too much of a shame to leave now, when the black-haired woman felt like she’d been so close to strengthening their relationship, to helping them grow one layer closer.

But, Sera had thought of it many times before, and it hadn’t changed now. Forcing the issue wouldn’t help matters. In fact, at the wrong time, it could only serve to further alienate Sister Frances. She had to walk the line, not moving too far in either direction.

“I’m sorry for… having disturbed you. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
 
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