Doom Upon All The World

Chapter 47: Our Comforts

      He'd come back. Nicolynn had hoped he would. When her mother went bounding through the halls frantically in nothing but a silken robe, she knew something was wrong. There was a small line of red blood of red at her throat and for a moment Nicolynn thought Gilderoy had come for them. When her mother went running for Cassandra though rather than she and her brother, she knew it couldn't have been anything so drastic. But then she had said that her father was gone. It broke her a little inside. Had he left like Tom? Like Leliana? She begged the Creators silently that he would come home to them. She needed him. Mythalus needed him. Their mother needed him. Nicolynn could not imagine her life without him, nor did she want to picture her mother without him. 

      But he had come home, safe and unhurt. He was okay. The day had passed in a blur of tears and soothing from her father. Solas was a kind gentle man and she was never more thankful for him as her father than in that moment. The day wound down and the moon was high in the sky now, peaking through the window of the barracks. She lay on her side, facing the boy in the bed beside hers. Her arm was out stretched, reaching across the small space, attaching to the boy on the other bed. She held his hand with confidence, knowing as long as they had each other, all of them, they would be all right. 

      Everyone else had fallen asleep to the sweet melody of Claude's voice. She and Anthony waited patiently for the room to fill with their snoring before they spoke to one another. He had reached for her hand when the Antivan girl began her ballad and they both tried their hardest not to let sleep consume them as they stared at the ceiling, listening to the beautiful sound. "Anthony," Nicolynn called softly to him. He moved slightly and ran his thumb over her palm as he shifted. "Yes, Lynn?" He answered in a groggy tone. It was obvious he had been on the verge of sleep. "What happens if they die?" She questioned quietly. The question caught the Rutherford boy off guard. "If who die, Lynn?" He replied. The warmth of his hand left hers for a moment before he crawled out of his bed, sank to the cold stone of the ground and sat at the side of her bed. His hand engulfed hers again, giving her the confidence to continue.

       He knew she needed this, just to have him hold her hand. Any hand in hers made her feel immediately more secure. He felt powerless to help their situation, powerless to help his parents, but this, holding his best friend's hand, this he could do. "Parents. If they die, what will happen to us?" She elaborated as he turned their hands over and over, observing them curiously. At her question he looked up, meeting those bright blue eyes that he could easily make out in the darkness. He wondered if perhaps she could see his amber ones in this light.

      "Nothing. They're not going to die." He tried to tell her but she simply shook her head and pulled her hand from his, sitting up in the bed. She let her long skinny legs hang over the edge of the bed and Anthony came face to face with their paleness. They looked so smooth and white this close. He sat back up, away from the bed and went back to his. He sat on the edge across from her. "But if they do?" She inquired again, her eyes falling to the floor. They did not look up at him. He laid back on his bed and crossed his ankles as he folded his arms behind his head as he had seen his father do many times when unwinding after a long day. He remembered watching his mother entwine her lean fingers through his blond curls, letting him vent all of his stress as she worked her hands against his scalp. He missed that. One of many things he missed. 

      He sighed and shifted his eyes to her. "If they do, then we will take care of each other. You and I, and Bellamy and Claude. We will take care of the others. We will be all right, Lynn." He told her and she heard a wisdom in his words that she hadn't before. She looked up at him then and smiled slightly through the tears that were there. She got up from her bed, her plain white night gown falling around her pale legs as her dark hair fell around her shoulders. She took a single step and climbed into his bed beside him, wrapping her long elven arms around him. "Promise?" She asked as she laid her head against him. This was not an odd occurrence. He had grown comfortable with this since they got here. When she would cry, this was what she needed.