Chapter 22 ♣ Official Welcome

Me’ren hovered like a cursed bane of a helicopter mom.

River didn’t know what to make of it, except get really offended. The infuriating oracle spoke for her, demanded healers, and won’t even let her get a word in. With unnatural speed, he would cover her mouth with a palm and shut her up with a narrowed stare. She pouted, swallowing disgruntled words.

Dark tribe healers stood behind her, chanting. A half arc circle of kids wearing fluffy cerulean-grey sweaters, joined in a chorus and creating a harmonious blend of soft murmurs.

“Check her stomach, too.” Me’ren directed “Foolish girl ate a whole crate devil's fruit last night.”

“I’m fine—“ he shut her up, covering her mouth.

Among the healers, a lone woman led the chanting kids, guiding their harmony. She had black hair, caramel skin and eyes the color of diamond. She smiled at their interaction, "I heard. A sun tribe girl eating a devil's fruit, why am I not surprised? You tribespeople will do just about anything to feed yourselves. Probably didn't take this one a minute to scarf down those fruits." A sweet-sugary chuckle burst out of her mouth.

"El'rra." Me'ren admonished. "How about her corruption?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary." her expression softened as she faced Me'ren.

"Are you completely positive about that?" he rumbled, eyebrows snapping together. "She took in about three cur—" he cut himself short.

El'rra raised a brow, "Don't tell me the little stray ate more than three crates of fouled foods out of your pantry?"

Don't talk about me like I'm not right here in front of you. It was what River intended to say but it came out as, "Dush lami ish tof yu." Mumbled incoherent noises covered by Me'ren's hand. Fucking rude.

El'rra spared a quick glance at her, raising a delicate brow before turning to him. "You should think about nuzzling your stray. Our sun tribespeople here are civilized. Who knows what filth they'll be up to when she gets to talking with them? Devil's fruit, by Brumcia! The lengths these tribespeople get up to."

"Just heal her scars, El'rra. The sooner you finish, the sooner she can leave."

Oh, the fucker would love that, would he? Push her out like some filthy unwanted weed. Well, the man has got another thing coming for him. River was staying for Lei'la and Maksim. They couldn't budge her to exit if they tried.

A malicious idea formed.

It reared its ugly head on the forefront of her mind in split second speed that she didn't have the reaction time to respond and suppress it. The insistent urge howled with a furious roar inside her mind as it sought his, reaching to anchor a connection. It was an invasive force, an angry blow to his mind slamming onto it like a battering ram.

An unsettled expression crossed his features. Eyes of starry night sky darting to hers in shock. She smirked behind his hand covering her mouth, satisfied to remind him who he was trifling with. Even though she had no control of what just came over her.

Her mind punch had hit him. The impact like hitting a steel garage door, creating a loud clanging sound wave ringing out that only she could hear inside her mind. She shrugged it off, chin tipping forward to another direction looking away.

Too much has happened. Things beyond her control. At some point, she was going to reach a tipping point where she might get another breakdown or not. It depends.

It depended if she let them get to her. Whatever was happening around her, it happened outside of her. They didn't matter to her on a personal level. She had to keep distance or risk a breakdown. Behagthis were glorified maids. Once she was done helping, she can get away never to be remembered. Out of sight. Out of mind. Out of this universe.

Everything's okay, she told herself. She might be alone in this but she won't let that get to her. She can be professional. Nothing has to matter at a personal level. But then, the thought brought to mind Maksim, creating a hollowed-out ache in her chest. The jerk had an aptitude for turning around and walking away from her when it mattered the most. She really shouldn't let it get to her. But the jerk hit close to home.

For a few moments, she let out a few breathing exercises as Dr. Malia would have instructed. In the moment, the healer's soft chanting added to mollify her rising anxiety, almost lulling her to sleep. She glanced at the mirror across the room, gasping at the sight. Remnants of the scar across her throat was slowly disappearing.

Me’ren followed her line of sight, skimming his pointer finger to trace on her scar. “Have I got a good guess on who did this.”

Tranquility gone in a flash, she bared her teeth and snapped to bite his hand. He pulled away at the last second, chuckling.

She didn't realize vibrations were reverberating and sweeping like waves across the room until it was gone as their chanting halted to a stop, abruptly.

Me’ren cleared his throat, “Continue.”

El'rra patted his shoulders “Haven’t heard that kind of laughter in a long while.”

This time, River recognized the brutal force of a bear crawling under her skin and slammed it into Me'ren's. He received an odd look from El'rra when he stumbled backwards all of a sudden “What kind of laughter?” asked a nonchalant River to the healer, El'rra.

Her jewelry was set with opal stones, glinting and shining at each movement. “An oracle laughter.” She answered, “Sul’ahvi’s sickness bears heavy on the tribe. It isn’t right to celebrate a festival without him.”

“I can help.” She said to her healer, pushing much force to punch him at a mental plane but he had anticipated it. Instead, when she pushed forward, his mind was already wide open to enter. Like a deer caught in a trap, his mind closed in on hers, surrounding her in his invisible energy until the locks slid into place and the connection formed at once. A barrage of memories and epochs of history swarmed in on her mind with tales of revenge, hatred, betrayal, love, and wars. So many wars. She gasped at the grotesque imagery, took it all in as swaths of history made way into her mind. With brand new eyes, she looked to the healer, now familiar yet a stranger. The history of El’rra, fiercesome elder of the eternal war, running like a movie in the back of her mind.

“How did you say you were going to help?” Her healer asked. In the present, El'rra looked to her with a beautiful smile that didn't quite reach her hard diamond eyes.

She gave a polite smile, shaking loose her stiffened shoulders and took a breath. “Give me a minute, teh?”

Reeling from the barrage of memories overwhelming her, she started to take deeper breaths. Damned oracle. Whatever. She has got 18 years of education, 60% of information from that education slipped by her mind, never to cross her mind again. To add to that, she has seen hundreds of movies and she could barely even remember what most of it was. The memory of watching it lost to time so whatever Me’ren did was no big deal. It slipped by her mind like running water slipping through fingers. Although, she can’t help but feel the damned oracle was flexing at her. She stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder.

An even more confused expression crossed his features when she rolled her eyes at him and turned to El'rra. “I can chant too. It has immediate healing effects. Are your healers available to accompany for Sul’ahvi?” she gestured at the children doing a great job in accompanying the musical chanting she set out. "I find healing chants are better with company."

She outright laughed, “And who exactly did you train with? I’ve never heard of you before in the healing circle.”

“I trained by myself” she frowned, which is why she was so insecure about her singing. On second thought, she didn’t want an audience after all. “Never mind.”

“Give her what she needs.” said Me’ren.

“It’s fine, really. I changed my mind. I apologize, I don’t want to bother.”

For the second time that day, she raised an eyebrow at River peering down at her through her long lashes. “It does bother us. These children are on a schedule for training. We don’t need an outsider like you filling their heads with nonsense. Much less have you in their vicinity.”

“Outsider?” Raising a hand to her crown braid, a poor attempt at braiding it herself. “I’m from the sun tribe.”

An amused grin. “Exactly.”

“El’rra.” Me’ren warned. "Be careful how you speak to her."

She juts out her hip, resting a hand over it “Fine. Kids go with the crazy sun girl.”

The little healers in training widened their eyes in disbelief, then looked to each other.

“See?" she threw out her arms limply at the sides "They don’t want to go.”

“You know what? I’m good. Sorry for taking up so much of your time. Let’s go oracle.” Out of pure instinct, she bowed in thanks to the kids and El'rra as she slid towards the exit.

The man didn’t budge, his jaw hardening to granite “This is my brother we are talking about El’rra. Whatever River needs, she gets. I’m telling you now.”

A blanket of insecurity fell upon her. She had been way too foolish, way too forward. Her impulses becoming way out of control. How whad she not thought this through before making the damned request? Numerous complaints were lodged against how she sang. How all the princes hated it. Besides Lann’a, Holden and the snow tribe children, no one had really heard her sing. It was bad, really bad. Even she could hear it. It was due to the fact that she chose power ballads with high building notes. Perhaps next time she can choose a song with low pitch like a tenor range that is usually accompanied by guitar strumming. At that an inspiration hit her, “I know what to do.” She tugged his arm, but it didn't work. He might as well have been carved like a Greek god statue for how sturdy his constitution was. The man was locked in a stare-down with the healer. And she could tell he was winning.

So she punched him in the mind.

Strangest thing.

She thought she already knew what to expect but this time it wasn’t like hitting a steel garage door.

Do you know when you lunge at someone at a fit of passion for a kiss and their mouths were already open, and in that instant you touched, your brain sort of instantly gets these messages of how his tongue tastes against yours? It was like that Me'ren. The instant they touched was like getting a taste of him. A full glorious taste of his ancient troubles and regrets. In that moment, she understood the depths of his magnitude. What he was capable of. What he never does or will ever do. The hundreds of fear that has been stopping him from ending the life he had cultured for more than a millennia.

It all revolved around his family.

She pulled back a few steps in a daze, quickly recovering and running for exit. Before she could reach for the door, he tugged her back by the arm. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she said in a rush, tightening her fists to gather courage she glanced up at him. "I'm really sorry for doing that. I didn't mean— I didn't realize— oh god there's no excuse. I apologize, Me'ren. Please forgive me." What happened was far too intimate, far too invasive that she had cut through the heart of him and saw the makings of a past oracle whose life was one long exercise of restraint and patience. The man had heart, lots of it. And he took great pains in hiding it. For fear it would endanger his family.

She muttered another apology. Her head bowing on instinct.

He tucked a curled finger under her chin, raising it up to meet his gaze. His patient, understanding night-star eyes held no irritation, "I've been impatient with you. I should be sorry. There's no excuse for it."

She didn't know what to say next. Silence stretched between them, the kids down the hall began to hum in practice unaware of what just happened.

He dropped his forehead to hers. "I will love you when no one else won't. I will stay with you when no one else stays. My home is with you, and the heart I carry is yours to do with as you please."

The recitation put her out of balance, and Me'ren with his fast reflexes wound an arm around her midsection for an embrace, lifting her off the ground. He got her so high up that stray locks of her hair fell to the sides of his face. Her forehead still resting on his. The words he dared to speak stole all her strength, made her weak.

But it wasn't bad. To her surprise it felt.. delicious. Like the blood running through her veins were made of warm sweet honey.

"Even then," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I will love you in the light as I do when the night enfolds us. I will love you at your highest, River Florencia, as I do when I hold you down. I will love you even when the world gets too big for us, pulling us away, pushing us apart. I will always love you because my love—" she whimpered, hot tears spilling to his cheeks as she lay a finger over his full bottom lips.

"Say no more." she breathed. It hurt too much to actually hear someone say it.

Vella Kiniste Mue, he said for the first time inside her head.

She squeezed her eyes close. Fuck.

He chuckled. Dark music that sounded like the devil taunting. Closing his eyes, he said. Meeting of the minds, foolish behagthi. I have seen yours as you have seen mine.

The fucker had recited word-for-word her old 5th grade English homework. Given to them by a substitute teacher who had tasked a whole classroom to write wedding vows as a grammar exercise. To shake things up, the teacher made girls write a husband's vow and the boys to write a wife's vow. The whole class had each made vows and it ended up being the finest piece of literature anyone has ever wrote that year. Their grammar was near to pristine impeccable that it left them discussing gender stereotypes for the whole duration of the class.

To her teacher, it had been a simple homework.

But to River, it was the essence of her heart's yearning.

The reminder of the hopeful starry-eyed girl she had been crushed her lungs, seizing her up in ice-chilling freeze. Strong emotions lodged firmly in her throat. And the kiss Me'ren pressed upon her lips was a miracle cure. Pure sunshine. Just one quick peck before he set her on the ground.

He smirked. A heart-stopping smirk that expressed masculine pride. He flicked a finger over her nose, and said. "Don't mess with me."