(i dream of you, and they're not the sweet kind)
The bed is same for several weeks already, which is an anusual thing as of late. Full night of sleep, whole seven or eight standard hours is also a luxury, and Arenim is probably too tired and let herself relax too much, because memories, supposedly dealt with once and for all, decide to kick in with one of the more unpleasant dreams.
This is that moment when one stops caring about pretty much anything.
She knows she'll probably die really soon, because she can feel a short blade between her ribs that she didn't even care to pull out, not mentioning five or six of those ribs being broken, her left hand is mostly useless, and it doesn't seem like the right eye will open ever again - but it doesn't matter.
There is body at the floor, bruised and battered, not really looking like her sister - like she herself looks. Arenim more or less falls next to her, finally not needing to keep herself upright.
"I killed them all, killed them all, Mero, I killed them all for you and the kid, and kid is safe now, I did kill them, Mero -", she keeps whispering, resting her forehead on the sisters' shoulder.
There, on that bloodied floor, in that room full of corpses, she actually thinks this is one of the best ways one can die.
She wakes up with a start, and breathes in and out, looking at the tent ceiling. Then she rolls off to the floor, feeling the traces of day warmth on the dusty rug.
Presses palms onto it, and pushes herself up. Drops. Pushes herself up again.
I'm here, protecting those who need that, setting things right, so that
No one -
No one -