Alternate Realities

Rainbow Brigade (RQSS)

Written for Mareshmallaw/Chelsthebookworm for Red Queen Secret Santa 2017.

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Rainbow Brigade

... ... It's my delight to gift to you the following fic in honor of this Holiday Season.

Whether due to surprise or etiquette, Cal shot up from his relaxed slump when more people joined him and his silver commanders in the room. Farley blocked his view for a moment and he relaxed recognizing other members of Command. His head snapped between Farley and a man on his right with only a small hint of confusion and a whole heap of annoyance. Then, intending to land back on Farley, he instead looked directly at Mare and morphed like an ember being extinguished in a muddy puddle. He visibly struggled to recover his composure. Cal turned to consult with the squat man with graying temples. Neither of them expected command to be there and Cal hadn't anticipated seeing Mare so soon.

Command thought Mare could have input on the Guard's strategy and, disrupt the power balance at least a little. Farley stayed true to Command's decision and convinced Mare to attend a Command meeting, forgetting to mention that they were crashing a Silver alliance meeting.

It's only because he couldn't control his eyes–always finding Mare even during the introductions, that he noticed the sag in her posture. She held her arm to her gingerly, and defensively. She'd left the battlefield hurt, but was healed before they entered the hall with House Samos. Her injuries made him shift in his seat. Twenty-four hours had passed and she was already hurt.

When she slid her hand off the table and under she emitted a soft groan. Cal shifted forward and into the table between them, a physical reminder of his divisive choice. The move stopped the droning speech of the squat man on his arm.

When his adviser put a hand on Cal's forearm, a sign of caution and meant to ground him, Cal exploded. Flames flickered and heat exuded throughout the tiny room. The man retracted, moving an arms length away. Cal blanched hot, eyes lit up. Suspicion crease the corners of his eyes. His chin jutted up in defiance.

"Who's games are you playing, Mare?" His echoing snarl snapped in half when the heavy door slammed shut behind him. Clearly, the prince thought Mare's presence —wounded as she was— a play on his emotions. A play that obviously worked.

Farley turned to Mare, eyes set on rectifying the situation, at least on explaining it; but Mare didn't have time or patience or enough calm left to give her the chance.

"What game are we playing? I'm not playing anyone's game." Mare shook. Shaking was safer than pulling the lights down around the tables, but the lights still flickered.

[]

"Get me out of here," Mare demanded.

"I didn't think... None of us thought..." Farley started but words couldn't chip away the anger. She hedged with facts instead. "We're regrouping at the base, first transport at 1540. I'll put your name on the list."

Mare picked up an already packed duffel and marched to the field of transports to wait.

[]

Kilorn and Bree leaned against the hanger and waited for the transport door to spread wide. New bloods spilled out, silent and tired. Most were injured and in need of Sarah's attention, Mare included. She looked more exhausted than any of them.

"Hey, Mare!" Bree called her attention and Kilorn wished he was the one to catch her first hug as she crumpled in Bree's arms. "You're hurt?"

"I'm okay. A New Blood healed most of it on the plane," Mare assured him.