avalon- drukkari x fem!oc

the pyres

  The smell of smoke invades her nostrils more and more as she rides closer to the village, along with the feeling of panic.  She urges the horse to go faster, snapping the reins and leaning down as it increases its speed.  The trees fly by, turning into a blur that goes by her vision unnoticed.  She only focuses on the village in the distance, the church bells that have just started to ring, and the pungent smell of smoke mixed with something else she can't quite place.  It's a disgusting smell, one that very nearly makes her gag.  It smells like rot, smells like death.

  It does nothing to help her panic. 

  The horse skids to a stop suddenly, nearly throwing Morgana clean off its back as it rears up into the air, kicking off the ground.  She gasps sharply, clutching the reins tighter as the horse neighs loudly and slams back onto the ground.  

  Makkari's eyes are wide, looking between the horse and Morgana.  The latter girl is ready to defend herself, ready to push past Makkari and to the village.  She fully believes for a second that Ajak has sent Makkari to bring Morgana back. 

  Morgana's eyes are wide, hands still clutching the reins as she the horse trots nervously back and forth. 

  She opens her mouth to say something, only for Makkari to raise her hands quickly. 

  "I can get you there quicker." Is all she signs, and if the situation weren't so dire, she would've fallen in love with the girl all over again.  And even then, the feeling of love swells up in her chest before it's quick diminished by the all consuming dread and panic.

  She practically races to get off the horse, swinging one leg over its body as she uses her powers to tie the reins to a tree so it doesn't run off.  Makkari watches her worriedly, glancing over Morgana's face as she approaches her.  Quicker than she can blink, Makkari's arms wrap around her waist from the front, and Morgana follows muscle memory, burying her face into the junction of Makkari's neck and shoulder.

  Then the world blurs by, the wind whipping her hair and hitting her back.  Her arms tighten around Makkari's neck.  She's hoping- praying, even, to Arishem or whoever might be listening- that the girls are alright.  She's had witches die on her- earlier than they should have.  Dying of old age is one thing, because she knows they lived a long life and got to experience it before they left.  But dying before their time- whether it's war, genocide, sacrifice, disease, whatever it may be- that always hurts more.  

  Makkari skids to a stop, keeling forward slightly from the force of it.  From where her face is still buried in the girl's neck, Morgana can hear her suck in a breath sharply.  She's almost afraid to remove her face, afraid of what she might see.  But she knows she has to, even if Makkari's arms haven't left her waist. 

  The smell hits her first.  The same as before, but now it's increased tenfold.  It's disgusting, smelling of rot and death and something burning.  She can smell the smoke, too, and the panic in her chest has reached an all-time high.  It feels like she can't breathe, and she has to gasp for the air to get into her lungs.  

  She turns around, and all the air she struggled to get into her body leaves in an instant.  Everything seems to go blurry, zeroing in on what she sees in the village below.  All the sounds around her- the crackling of the fire, the cheering of men, the screams that are quickly cut off- become muffled, as though she's listening to them from the bottom of a lake.  A shaky hand moves up subconsciously to cover her mouth.  

  Every thought leaves her head.  She can't speak, can't even think as the panic that once fills her chest is replaced by pure grief.  The tears begin to slide down her cheeks, cutting lines through the small film of dirt on her skin.  Her hands begin to shake- though she doesn't notice- and in an instant, her legs are incapable of holding her weight.  

  With a strangled sob, she falls, but Makkari's arms around her waist keep her from hitting the ground, and she now knows why Makkari kept her hands there.  Her eyes are locked firmly on the pyres below, at the bodies of her girls quickly burning and mingling with ash and wood.  As much as she wants to look away, she can't.  It's painfully easy to place them all; from here, she can see the golden necklace that Claire always wears, can see the leather cuff that Sabrina has seemingly glued permanently to her wrist.  She can even see Alice's signature headband as it burns with her hair, and Margaret's bright red hair is hard to miss amongst the blondes and brunettes, and Emma's silver ring falls to the ground as her fingers burn away until there's nothing there except stark white bone.  She wishes she could look away but she can't, because those are her girls.  Her girls who are long since dead, bodies burning away until they're black and charred.  

  Makkari forces her gaze away as she moves them to the ground, hands placing themselves on either side of Morgana's face.  She wails, the sound mixing with the cheers of the disgusting men below.  The grief is overpowering.  She can't feel Makkari's skin on hers, can't hear the other Eternals arriving on horseback at that exact moment.  

  Above them, the clouds darken in the span of a few seconds, blocking out any and all sunlight from pushing through.  The rumbling of thunder mixes with her sobs, her wails of pain and agony becoming one with the howling of the wind.  The pain feels physical, though she knows it's not.  She loses grip on some of her power, summoning a storm that she'll later be grateful wasn't a hurricane.   

  As the downpour begins, and lightning strikes the earth around the village, Druig runs over, kneeling on the ground next to her.  She feels his hands wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her forward gently until her forehead hits the front of his shoulder.  She feels Makkari's hand stroking her hair as Druig mutters things she doesn't hear.  

  She doesn't hear the gasps of the villagers as the sudden storm approaches the sky above them quickly.  She doesn't hear the other Eternals speaking, doesn't hear Druig tryin to soothe her.  

  She can only feel the pain, the agony, the grief.  Blooming amongst those emotions is anger, and the need for revenge.  She's screaming in agony, the sound lost to the storm above them.  It hurts, hurts so much she can't even begin to describe it.    

  She feels a pressure in the back of her mind, and can recognize the feeling of Druig trying to enter.  Out of all of them, her mind is the hardest for him to enter.  But eventually, through her sobs and crying, he manages to.  

  Everything goes black as he makes her fall asleep, catching her before her body can hit the ground.