Senkha enters the house in complete silence. Not even her footsteps make a sound on the stairs or the floor, and the door closes noiselessly behind her. She makes her way to the kitchen and starts putting away the eggs.
Macglynn is still seated on the bottom step, head down and clutched in his hands. Chadley sits at his side, looking equal parts pained and nauseous. He's quiet as Oliver endlessly talks. "-- believed in it so much, why's she so upset by it? Weren't fer her, Ah dun' even know where Ah'd be. Dead. Ah'd be dead, or maybe Ah'd 'a let m'self fall ter my blade, maybe Ah'd-- Light, all she ever done is remind me to keep good-" Chadley raps Oliver on the shoulderplate and nods toward Senkha as she walks in.
Senkha still silently sets the eggs in place, the slight scraping of their shells against each other the only indication that she's here at all. If she's noticed the silence following her entrance, she doesn't show it.
Macglynn peers up in the direction of the sound and frowns. Chadley claps him on the shoulderplate again and stands, slowly and painfully making his way back up the stairs. The boy shakes his head to clear it. Oliver... remains where he is.
Senkha slowly and carefully sets the last of the eggs in place before closing up behind them. She turns to set the basket by the door and catches Oliver's eyes as she goes, exhales softly and closes her eyes before joining him on the stairs.
Senkha says: I just want you to be happy.
Macglynn says: Likewise. This clearly causes conflict.
Senkha says: I'm fine. I'm sorry that I reacted the way I did. I'm sorry I didn't just... just shut up and let you be happy.
Senkha says: I'm not very good at doing that, I know. Every time you've been happy, I've been so quick to rain on your parade, and that's the worst thing. I'm... I'm not very good for you at all.
Macglynn says: ... Please don't go away.
Macglynn 's voice is small, his features hidden by his gauntlets. His words come out slow, but his thoughts are racing.
I've made a mistake I can't fix. She liked me better before. I've ruined things, I've frightened her, I should've been happy to help how I could have-
Senkha closes her eyes and cringes, covering her face with her hands as well. "Stop," she says quietly. The barrier to her own thought process falls down; she's far from calm and collected.
--only a matter of time, now he's so -good- and you're so not. You're not good, you've never been, you bring out the worst in him. It's only a matter of time before he realizes it. He's not an idiot. And then he'll leave, just like everyone else, and what will you have then, Senkha?
Macglynn 's plated fingertips dig into his hair in frustration. His voice sounds about to break as he asks, "Whut's 'good' got t'do with any it all? Y'think ha' textbook 'good' y'are is whut Ah care about? -Ever- cared about?"
Senkha runs her hands through her hair, burying her face further. "This part of you--the part of you that calls on the Light--hates me for what I've done to you. The way I've fed those Scourge-borne depravities, the way I enjoyed them."
Senkha says: Every time you almost killed me because of what they did to you--it was me. It was my fault. It was my digging and pushing and need to be hurt. I made you a monster.
Macglynn says: ... Are you leaving.
Senkha says: Are you?
Senkha says: And I mean... even if you say no now, what's to stop you from leaving later? I'm so broken and fucked up and wrong, and the Light favors you so much...
"NEVER," he answers too loudly. "Why d'you think that's all that matters t'me. Why d'you think that's in any way whut Ah care about."
Senkha says: That's all -anyone- has -ever- cared about! And tell me honestly, if things were different... if you weren't undead and I'd played with your mind and pushed you into evil, would you love me?
Macglynn lifts his head and looks at her with those eerie, golden eyes, his features fallen in an absolutely defeated expression. "It ain't whut Ah care about," he weakly argues. He doesn't answer her question.
He can't even think of an answer. He cannot at all consider the outside circumstances. Would he? Maybe. Maybe not. But he does now.
Senkha sags weakly, just as defeated, as if all the life has gone out of her. "I'm not leaving," she tells him in a low voice. "I'm just so afraid that you will."
Macglynn says: Ah- Ah love you. Ah made this happen 'cause 'a you, an'- an' it was you whut brought me here. Y'made some mistakes, but -you saved me-.
If I wasn't dead by now, I'd have been consumed by my blade. Gave up. A slave.
Senkha makes a sound not at all unlike a wounded puppy. "How did I stop any of that? I -encouraged- some of it. I said you were good, but the second you had me in your arms, all I could think about was--"
You killing me. You enslaving me. Belonging to you the way you belonged to your blade.
Macglynn says: ... Y'helped me balance it. Y'helped me see ha' awful it really was, whut Ah needed to watch out fer in m'self. Y'even showed me th' Light again.
Senkha looks up, about to protest, before remembering that oh yeah, she did do that. "That's what you see, in spite of everything horrible I've done... everything horrible I am. That's what you see."
Macglynn tries looking her in the eye. "Y'can't recreate that kind 'a beauty unless it's in you, even jus' a little. But- lemme ask. All those things y'call horrible. Why'd y'do 'em?"
Senkha exhales slowly. Talk about a can of worms. She scratches her scalp for a moment, thinking. "Because I love all of you, and I wanted you to know that. Even the bad. I shouldn't have pulled it out, but I wanted you to know that nothing about you was that bad to me, that I wouldn't love you for it. But then I enjoyed you hurting me and I thought that... that maybe if you saw me as something that belonged to you, nothing would or could ever make you leave."
Macglynn says: Ah'm glad yer able t'jus' tell me all that. Senkha, Ah- Ah don't say it enough, ha' much yuh've helped me an' seen me through. Y'done some crazy things, but Ah won't lie that a part 'a me enjoyed 'em as much as a part 'a me hated 'em.
Macglynn says: An' Ah -don't- mean th' blade.
Macglynn says: But Ah don't care. An' apparently th' Light don't either, so long it's done outta love or somethin' stupid lahk that. Ah don't know.
Senkha looks at Oliver with raised eyebrows. "-You- enjoyed them? Oliver MacGlynn, not Oliver the Death Knight."
Macglynn says: Senkha, yer talkin' at me lahk Ah suddenly became a whole new person. Oliver the Death Knight is a part 'a me. It's somethin' that happened t'me. It's who Ah am.
Macglynn says: Th' whispers is gone, but Ah'm still th' same.
Senkha says: --but.
You're a paladin now. That changes so much.
Macglynn says: -- It does, but it don't give a single reason fer me to stop lovin' you.
Senkha starts to respond to this, but instead has an abrupt subject change attack. "Can you feel anything? When Stehl put his hand on Dad's bare chest, Dad felt everything. Can you feel anything?"
Macglynn stumbles. He was also about to keep talking, but now he's being questioned. He places a hand over his bony cheek and gives the smallest of nods. "J-jus' a bit. It's there, oh Light. It's there."
Senkha says: --and. And if I never did anything with your mind again, if I never gave you that illusion of life, and this was all you had. You would still love me?
Macglynn says: Senkha, please stop askin' me all these 'if' questions. If y'get th' urge to ask one, jus' assume th' answer is "yes".
Macglynn stares at her. He tries to smile.
Senkha manages something like a smile. It's weak, but it's genuine. "Alright."
Senkha says: --take off your glove.
Macglynn blinks and does as instructed. "Why?"
Senkha takes Oliver's hand. "You can feel, can't you? Sort of?" Without waiting for an answer, she places his hand on top of her hair, letting his fingers tangle there and his thumb brush against her cheek.
Macglynn smiles, curling his fingers in and feeling her hair between them. He laughs, even- a quick, short, almost sad laugh. "Thank y'fer stickin' with me," he says as he leans forward to rest his forehead against hers.
Senkha closes her eyes and removes her own glove to place her hand against Oliver's right cheek: warm, calloused along the palms, but beautiful. "Right back at you." She leans forward to brush her lips against his ever-so-gently.
Macglynn ups the energy a bit, returning the kiss with a smile. There's a calm about his mind; one that's never been there in all her time knowing him.
I have everything I want.
