She didn't want to tell Tendral that she still didn't tell Aladar everything. That even after the damage was done, she couldn't look him in the eye and tell him about the husband she left, about the life she left, about why she saw the army as a better option than staying home... She couldn't tell him why she flinched when he touched her face, why she distanced herself when he was angry... She couldn't tell him that the reason she was afraid to tell him at all was because, deep down, there was always that fear lingering in the back of her mind. That fear that he would eventually become the man that still haunted her nightmares.

Just give him a few more days, Tendral said. Just a few more days... A few more days, and Aladar was supposed to forgive her for lying to him for six months? No, no, she didn't think so, and she told him that, in her jumbled words, before disappearing into her tent once more, deciding that she wasn't quite ready to try to return to normal after all. Not today. Maybe tomorrow.

She slept for most of the day, again, skipping lunch and only leaving again once to get a tray for dinner that she barely touched.

The next morning, she was finally dragged out of her tent. Not exactly by her own free will. Actually, her sergeant sent someone to get her and drag her to training after she skipped three days, which went about as well as one would expect for the currently very hungover woman. She didn't even try, during the sparring sessions and exercises. Kastill was growing more frustrated with her with every passing moment, his calm orders slowly shifting to shouting at the female in his squad as she continually distracted the others and grew angry, more disrespectful with every passing minute. She'd been in his company for years, since before he knew she was a woman, and this was the first time she'd been forced to come to one of the squad's training sessions since the battle... She wasn't making a great first impression.

For one, she was drinking again, every time his back was turned. The flask was tucked into the side of her boot, and she'd nearly drained it by the time he caught her, crossing the distance between them in two strides as he snatched it from her hand, raising it to his nose before throwing it to the ground, slamming his heel on it until the metal deformed, rendering the flask unusable as the remaining liquid spilled onto the ground. He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt in an attempt to get through to her, his voice deadly serious and his fury boiling over into his tone.

"Get yourself together," her sergeant growled, "Or I'll have you strip and run laps through the whole damn camp until the rest of us are finished here."

Ali said nothing at first, glaring up at the taller man with hatred in her eyes and far more spite than should exist in her small frame.
Then, she lifted her chin to look him in the eyes, hands clenched into tight fists, her face red in anger and drunkenness.

"Go to hell," the woman spat. "And take the whole damn company with you."

When he shoved her away in disgust, she nearly fell over, staggering as she fought for her balance before spewing a string of slurred curses and insults in his direction.

Every waking moment of his life had become consumed with work. It was to the point where he had no paperwork, no more strategies to make... and still, he was always finding something to do to keep himself busy. Anything to keep himself from thinking of her. Because he was always thinking of her. Everything he saw reminded him of the woman that he had come to love with his entire soul. Which led to his entire tent being rearranged in an effort to take away the familiar territory and memories. Once again he ate alone in his tent, even going as far as to leave Tendral to the usual duties of a soldier. He needed time to work, pray, sleep, eat, and repeat the cycle with no other distractions.

And still, somehow Ali made her way into his thoughts, though slowly it came with regrets. Regrets with how he had handled the situation. Surely he could have done something better, though he knew he had to stand by his position that from then on, she was no more than a soldier and he was no more than her captain. Because it still stood that he could not love her. He knew nothing more than she currently already had a husband who was alive, and he had enough of a brain to assume something must have happened. But she never told him enough for him to know.

He did his best to not leave his tent as much as possible for as long as possible. He had the sergeants and lieutenants report directly to him and gave them his orders, and that was the way things were. He heard that Ali was not coming, but the man did not have the heart to order she be made to join the usual routine. Because he knew he had hurt her... at least until the third night, Aladar giving Kastill permission to do as he saw fit in the situation.

And that was the end of it. Or so he thought.

The next day was a day that would have been better if it never happened, one of the soldiers coming to his tent on the command of one of the lieutenants. Ali was causing trouble with the sergeant. It took a lot of courage for the captain to slowly rise to his feet and follow the man out towards the sparring field.

Aladar stood straight, hands behind his back as he made his way out, in time to catch the last bit of the drama caused by the woman. He did not intervene, the only sign that he was not overly pleased by Kastill’s actions being the twitch in his jaw as Ali was grabbed by the shirt and threatened. It wasn’t until she was shoved away and she made a display of disrespecting the sergeant that Aladar moved forward, chin lifted.

He dreaded this. In every ounce of his body as he crossed the sparring field towards her and her sergeant. But he had a duty to this camp, which meant he had to talk to Ali about her disrespect and clear drunken nature.

Why Ali? Why are you drinking again? Why can’t you just talk to me? Why did you do the things you did?

They were the questions that ran through his mind, the anger he had displayed being long since replaced with sorrow. He hated seeing her like this, but he could not offer the support and confrontation as a man who loved her like he used to. Now he had to handle it in the official means.

“Kastill. That was unnecessary in the situation at hand. I will not have her stripping in this camp as I would not have any woman do so.” His head turned to the woman that held fury and a drunken sheen in her eyes. “Alyana. You are NOT to speak that way to your commanding officer, is that understood? These men deserve respect, every single one of them does. I will not hesitate in having you dunked in the river until you are sober and placing you on mess duty for two weeks if it comes to that.”

He stepped up closer to her, voice lowering for only her ears. “Do not take your anger against me out on these men. They have done nothing to deserve your animosity and disrespect.”

Movement caught her eye, in her peripheral vision, and she turned to face the new threat, eyes wild and daring and angry until they landed on Aladar.

Aladar, with his cool, calm expression, his hands clasped behind his back... Scolding her sergeant for threatening her with a punishment that would be valid for any other soldier, if she were really just like any other soldier in his eyes. The woman's rigid stance, hands clenched into tight fists, never relaxed a fraction as he turned to her, his expression unreadable. It wasn't like she cared. She told herself she didn't care what he thought of her, he was her captain and no more, like he said. He meant nothing to her, and she meant nothing to him.

She loved him still...

But the words in that book she'd once begged him to read to her, told him that she was wrong and unforgiveable and a liar, so it must be true. The faith he held so dearly told him that he could never love her because of something in her past she could never escape from, so he didn't... She didn't have a full understanding of the Man in Aladar's Bible, of the Son he said came to forgive sins and redeem mankind... But it was enough to form the idea in her mind that some people were just too broken, just too dirty inside for this Jesus to fix, and that she was one of them.

"What the hell happened to just being my captain, huh?" she finally spat, meeting his sorrowful brown eyes with her cold blue. She didn't try to hide the pain in her voice now, the anger, her own blinding self-hatred aimed at the first person she could think to blame. "You wouldn't have said a damn thing if he'd been talking to Allen."

She stiffened further when he moved closer to her, eyes flashing as she met and held his gaze, glazed eyes full of hate.

"What are you whispering for, huh? Hiding things from them now? Don't want them to know? With all due respect, I'm pretty sure they all know something happened, Captain. It's pretty obvious, with you hiding in your tent and all. What, is this the first time you've walked among us soldiers since? The mighty captain come to yell at his subjects? Dunk me in the damn river, see if I care, there's nothing else you can do to me! I don't even deserve your attention, why the hell are you here?"

Her breath came in shallow, shaky gasps, her words slurred but still coherent enough to be understood by everyone who was listening. Hot, angry tears welled up in her eyes as her voice rose to a shout, cracking with emotion.

"You want to know more about my past so bad, why don't you go back to your damn tent and see if that stupid book of yours has any answers for you, huh? Because clearly it knows everything. Why don't you ask your God why I didn't tell you?!"

It was a strange shift in topic, but it was the only thing she could think of when she looked at him, a response to his questions she couldn't answer at the time, the bitter words from a hurting woman that had been festering in her own mind for days. The man she still loved... The man who said he didn't love her anymore...

"What kind of captain are you? I shouldn't be here, damnit! I hate you! I wish you'd sent me home the moment you found out about me!"

For a second, silence fell, the woman silently staggering under the weight of her own words. No, no, she didn't mean that... But she couldn't take it back, and now the words wouldn't come...

What did you do?

He stood for a moment, waiting for her response, hoping that by some miracle she would calm down and they could work this out. Not like Ali and Aladar... because Ali and Aladar could be no more. But at least like soldier and captain, or even two people who at least still held the faintest of flickers in their hearts for the other. But one look at those cold eyes, watching them harden in front of his very eyes, warned him of the fury about to be rained down upon his head.

"You wouldn't have said a damn thing if he'd been talking to Allen."

“Alyana...” His voice warned gently, still lowered for her to hear alone, that being where his voice sat at the moment. Aladar tried to block out the look of hate that met him as he tried to lock her gaze with his, to search the depths of the drunken orbs for some light of his girl. Something to salvage this moment at least.

“Hiding things from them now? Don't want them to know?”

He straightened away slightly, lifting his chin at her words, but his gaze stayed soft and sorrowful. No... No... I’m trying to protect you... they don’t need to know...

“What, is this the first time you've walked among us soldiers since? The mighty captain come to yell at his subjects?”

She wasn’t.... He could feel the stares as the camp came to a silent halt. Did she realize the impact of what she was saying? Could she begin to comprehend the seeds of doubt she was sowing about his character?

“Alyana. That is enough!” He barked out the order, though it pained him to hear the strength and bluntness of his own voice. But as a captain, he could not allow this behavior. He couldn’t allow there to be even a spark that could light a fire in his camp and tear down the fragile morale he had worked so hard to build up. It was the morale that helped the men stay conditioned... if they started to think he couldn’t be trusted, and that he was hiding things from them... Ali, please stop. Don’t do this.

Maybe if she hadn't been so drunk, she would have read the begging in his brown eyes, the want to reason with her if she would just talk to him and tell him the truth. Or rather... her next words made it clear she could read his eyes, she just no longer cared.

“Why don't you ask your God why I didn't tell you?!"

No, not my faith. Ali.... not God. Why are you mocking Him? It hit him hard, like a blow to his chest. Had he somehow turned her against God and the Bible? Against the truth and the light? The guilt washed over him, believing he had failed both of them now... how could he have? His guard was down as he shook his head.

“Ali...” He reverted to her nickname, not caring that they had an audience now, trying to stop her. “Ali, listen...”

If he thought her attack against him as a captain had hurt... if her attack against his faith had thrown a dagger into his soul... he had no idea the pain that would come with her next words as he was cut off.

“I hate you!”

Aladar took a staggering step back and away from her. Hate... she hated him. He blinked as his wounds were ripped open, the ones he had worked so hard to hide and try to start mending. Torn apart as he could feel the loathing radiate off her, so hot and full of fury that it brought to light in his own mind how he had not let her go. He had not stopped loving her... he had only hidden the emotions away as his solution. But his love was still there, perhaps mangled and bleeding, but it was still a deep love for her.

Shattered.

Blinking, his gaze looked around at the soldiers still watching, some with wide eyes, others looking nervous. His men... Ten years he had dedicated his life to this war. Sworn his heart to God and to protect his nation. These men who were now caught in the crossfires of his relationship gone wrong and this woman who had turned herself against him.

His mind worked at lightning speed though it all felt so slow in those few seconds of thought as her angry words still sank in. These men respected her. And they respected him. And she had just laid out a line, of which side the soldiers would take. Who would they support? Aladar could not have a camp divided. At the end of the day, he had to choose his men, as painful as it was.

And it ripped him to shreds as brown eyes hardened and landed on Ali, his choice made. “Then go home Alyana. Pack your bags and be out of this camp by the end of the day.”

She was not the first soldier he had to send home over the years, but she was the one that hurt the most. Because as he sent her away, only one thing rolled through his mind:

God forgive me... I'm so sorry... my girl...

The look in his eyes cut deep, but she didn't let it show. Not now. She couldn't cave now, her shattered pride wouldn't let her... Even if the things she said felt wrong even to her, she heard her own thoughts of herself directed at him, things that weren't fair, insults he had never done a thing to deserve... And yet she couldn't take it back. She couldn't take back a single word, even as her last hateful screech still hung heavily in the air and he took a moment to absorb it all... All the words she already regretted, even now when she could barely think.

"I didn't-"

I didn't mean that... I didn't mean to hurt you, I don't hate you... I don't hate you... I promise...

Don't-

She took a stumbling step backwards, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief as he finally spoke. No... No, she didn't want that, she didn't mean it!

"Aladar, please," she breathed, no strength behind her words, nothing but pure panic and pain in her eyes as she stared at him. She didn't even know what she was begging for. Forgiveness? No, she was the last person who deserved to beg his forgiveness. She told him she would rather go home... She told him she hated him. She told him he was a terrible captain, she mocked his God... And it couldn't even sink in now, as she took a shaky breath, still trying to comprehend it all.

He was sending her home.

This man she loved, this man she trusted... She had finally crossed a line that should never be crossed, with her selfishness and her instability and her brokenness...

There was a time when she trusted he would never send her back. She thought he knew... She assumed he knew that she would never, in a thousand lifetimes, ever mean anything she said about wanting to go back. She assumed he knew something he didn't, something he could never know because she had never told him. Something she was too ashamed to tell him, something he deserved to know...

Now, because of this mess she'd created, she was not just unwelcome in his life, but she just lost the only real home she'd ever had.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, finally looking away, accepting her fate as she turned to leave, slowly making her way to her tent.

Soldiers moved aside to allow her passage, a crowd having gathered, attracted by Aladar's scolding and her shouted, drunken accusations.

It took her most of the afternoon to gather what little she had. Her belongings fit, just barely, in one heavy bag she slung over her shoulder. She took everything, except that one blanket she'd stolen from him months ago. That, she left folded outside of his tent, never attempting to go inside, and refusing to stick around long enough to possibly run into him.

Finding Tendral was her next mission... Her last, here. It didn't take long before she found the tall man, heading to his tent to probably sleep the rest of the day away, as was his habit when things like this happened. She practically ambushed him, stepping silently into his path to throw her arms around him, biting her lip as she tried to keep at bay the tears that had threatened all day.

"I'll find a way to keep in touch," she said quietly, offering a shaky smile before she turned once again to leave, her voice breaking as she tried to hold herself together.

And it was done. By the end of the day like Aladar said, she was gone without a trace, without so much as a sign that she'd ever been there... Leaving nothing behind but an empty tent and a whole lot of heartbreak, and on her way home to face demons of her own.

That day was perhaps the slowest, most broken day they had all felt in the camp, the fragile morale shattered. Tendral made it through his conditioning for the day, though he was much slower, a heavy guilt weighing on him for what he had witnessed earlier. He had wanted desperately to stop her before it was too late, but he couldn’t leave the training in his squad. Instead, he watched her tear apart Aladar, and watched the captain send her home. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he realize what he was doing?

He was confused. They all were. And now all the soldier wanted was rest, and to actually write his letter to his girl. At least try. It was on his way there that he found Ali suddenly there, arms wrapped around him. Immediately his own arms wrapped around her as he bent slightly to hold her for a moment longer. “I’m sorry...” It was all he could manage before she pulled away, and she was gone. Green eyes watched after her in sorrow.

“Maybe Aladar’s God will keep you safe...” he murmured before finally ducking into his tent.

~

Ali’s departure began what would be some of the hardest days Aladar felt he ever had to face. He had sent soldiers home for similar things. He had lost friends and men in battle. He had men die in his arms. But that day, he sent away the woman he still loved, the one who would not tell him why she had lied, the woman he could not have. And her words had dug deep, as did the collapse of morale at his orders.

He left the scene to return to his tent with a raging headache and no feeling left except the one that has no name and simply causes indescribable numbing pain. He had no idea what he was sending the woman back to. How could he? She had never told him, never explained the full extent of the abuse she had faced. She said her home life had been bad, but he did not comprehend what that entailed. If he had known...

But it was pointless because he didn’t. It only left him to suffer, spending the rest of his day on his knees and into the night. He had to make his decision... he stood by that. For the entire company. But he still wished there had been some other way.

It was the next day when he had a better semblance of mind, though it was still dark and cold. He didn’t even know her last name... if he did, he would have found a way to check on her. Instead, he took a piece of paper and brought ink to it, reaching out to the only person he knew to.

My Dearest Naomi,

I hope all is well with you at home. Is young Issac doing well still? Give Jonathan my regards, as I hope you are not abusing the poor man too much. I write to you with a heavy heart and ask for your prayers and thoughts. The last couple weeks have been taxing, and I have much to tell you as this is the first time I’ve sat down to write to you. I am still stationed with my men to recuperate, though I fear the events that have followed have been far from that. We were called out for backup on a brief battle not too long ago, with minimal loss. But afterward, it seems that the abilities I have found myself blessed with come with their own issues. I was told by using them, I increase the depreciation of my joints and body severely, and to recover even from the last fight, I would have to take a month off. You know I cannot do that, so I ask you pray that I manage until such a time as this war is over. But beyond that, and to the point of why my heart is heavy – It is Ali. I found out this week that she is still married to another, though unfortunately not by her own words. When I confronted her, she as much as agreed I was right, but would not tell me or explain to me what was going on. You know I cannot link my soul to hers when she is married to another and I had to pull away and end the relationship. I wish I could say that was the worst of the news but I am afraid not. It seems her anger has grown against me, and today she caused trouble in the company. I did my best to handle it as fairly as I could, though perhaps I erred in giving her the benefit of the doubt for what we once shared. Oh Naomi... my heart aches to put this on paper, like the final say for what has been done. She attacked my position as captain, called me out for my silent suffering in my tent and claimed I was hiding things from my men, that I viewed myself above them. She went into mocking God... I have failed. I have failed Him in turning her anger to Him for the things that I have done. But what more was I to do over this time I’ve been with her? I could not deny His decree and the morals that he has set out that one should not love another man’s wife. I would be denying Him if I ignored that, and yet I have turned her against Him. I wish you were here... you would know so much more than I what I should do. And still, still my heart has been ripped further from my chest as she once more called me out as a bad captain. My men respect her, believe she knows me better than the rest... She told me she hated me. I sent her home Naomi. I sent Ali home. I cannot put into words just how heartbroken I am. I have felt despondent many times here, and yet, that is not the word to use. Nothing captures the pain I feel. I miss you very much, my dear sister, and I hope to receive a letter back from you soon. May the Lord bless you and your house. Please, tell me more about my nephew, as I hope to hear of the young boy will cheer me some.

Your loving brother,

Darri

The next week came, the man suffering in his pain as he wrote his sister yet another letter. This one, however, was much more despondent, every word laced with a deeper depression than the man had ever felt before. His company was failing to thrive, and Aladar found himself being forced to leave his tent more often to break up fights and try to dispel the tension in the air. They all suffered.

The third week was calmer, less fighting and the tension not quite as bad, but spirits were still low. Nor did it help that Aladar was once more spending as much time as he could in his tent. Though one good thing did come from it all, something no one realized, nor probably would. But the events brought with it time for the captain to get his month of rest, too tired and emotionally hurt to go out and train with his forceshields. Which left him currently sorting through paperwork, one hand resting in his hair as he stared at the next report he was supposed to be writing.

She didn't go straight to Darren after leaving the camp. The first place she went was her childhood home, seeking refuge with the only living relative she still had... The one she had let believe she was dead for four year... The one she never wrote to, or even attempted to tell that she was okay... The woman who had taken the word (and money) of Ali's husband over her own daughter's pleas...

Two days after leaving the camp, she stood on the familiar doorstep, offering a tired and broken smile when the older woman finally came to the door.

"Hey, Mom..."

For a few minutes, the woman was silent, staring at Ali in shock as she took a moment to absorb that the daughter who'd been dead for four years was now standing in front of her.

It took a solid three minutes of staring before she finally got her wits about her enough to speak, or rather to scream, considering her immediate response was to call Ali every horrid thing you can think of, accusing her for abandoning her family and her husband; terrible, scathing words that were cut off by the sound of the door slamming in her face.

Exactly the reaction Ali was expecting, but hardly the one she was hoping for, as she shrank away from the noise, eyes closed for a moment to gather her thoughts.

So it was true... She really didn't have any other choice.

She had already gone through the rations that had been provided for her journey home, and she had already spent what little money she had in various taverns along the way. Her final decision was reluctant, but it was made nonetheless, her tired feet carrying her slowly towards the house and the man she'd had nightmares about for four years.

It would be fine.

After what she did to him, the things she said, the things she didn't say... She deserved whatever happened to her and she couldn't find it in her to care anymore.

It was late on the second day after she left the camp, later the same afternoon she tried to face her mother, when she made it to Darren's house.

He hardly hesitated when he saw her, ushering her into the house after looking around to make sure no one was around to see. The two spent several hours talking, mostly him talking, his words about how he had missed her and he had never stopped thinking about her and looking for her... All a kind facade that was already crumbling with his anger that she had disappeared for four years. His new wife jealously watched from the corner, arms crossed over her chest as she silently glared at Ali.

Darren soon demanded to see her scars, and as she moved to show him, his eyes narrowing and lips pressed into a firm, disappointed line when he saw the ugly marks on her skin, Ali accidentally mentioned Aladar's name.

It was a slip of the tongue, nothing more... But from that moment on, her life became even more of a hell than it already was.

___

Her steps faltered as her surroundings grew more familiar with every passing hour. More familiar, and yet still so foreign, every tree and field blurring together in her mind until she was certain she was walking in circles... Unlike the last time she'd walked this path, she carried no bag with her. Her belongings had been stripped from her; all that the woman had managed to hold onto were the tattered clothes on her back and two pieces of splintered wood in her pocket that had once held the shape of a lioness. Her hand found that pocket as she slowed to a stop, leaning against a nearby tree trunk for a moment to catch her breath and give her trembling body a rest. She held one of the pieces tightly in her hand, inhaling shakily as she pulled it out to look at it... Her other hand pulled her sleeve over her wrist to hide the dark bruises, hands trembling as she pushed off of the trunk again and shoved the broken trinket back into her pocket. If she stopped too long...

She wasn't even sure where she was going, or what she hoped she'd find there... The orders had been clear. She was no longer welcome in the camp. She had been sent home... And from home, once again, she had escaped. Slipped away in the middle of the night while he slept, limping on sore and deeply bruised muscles... She had escaped, again, fleeing because she wouldn't... Because she couldn't survive another day. She couldn't just try to go back to normal and forget the last four years ever happened... Because this was her normal, before then... Before she understood that it wasn't.

She had decided to return to the camp, and it seemed so much more rational then, in her desperation, with fear driving her away and fueling her flight. When she only had two options; stay there and suffer or go back to Aladar and take your chances there, it was so much easier to choose to leave... But now, with her strength fading all too quickly... Faces, voices, memories and current reality all blurring together in her mind, her breath coming in shuddering gasps, her fear of facing Aladar was rearing its ugly head again. If he sent her away again...

She knew what she'd do, and it wasn't a good plan, but it was what formed in her half-delirious mind as she finally stumbled to the border that formed the outermost boundary of the area the camp patrolled.

It was there that she collapsed. It was there that she whispered to herself that it would be okay, someone would find her, as her knees finally buckled and she barely tried to break her fall, grabbing feebly at a low-hanging branch with a whimper of pain. Her back came to rest against the trunk of a tree, her eyes closed as she let out a soft sigh and finally forced herself to relax, another muffled whimper an indication of her pain.

She was barely recognizable as the same woman that had left the camp three weeks ago. Visibly thinner and almost fragile-looking, she'd lost far too much weight during the short time she was with him. Her hair, slicked down with sweat and, in at least one place, dried blood, hung in limp, tangled strands nearly to her shoulders. Her face, the few places where it wasn't discolored with dark bruises and smudges of blood, was pale from malnutrition and prolonged exposure to the mid-June heat. Her clothes, torn and ragged despite having been nearly new when she left, were stained with blood in too many places, and she moved gingerly, every small movement causing a crescendo of pain that brought back too many memories of how each one was inflicted.

As she curled up slightly, knees drawn closer to her chest in an attempt to trick herself into thinking she was somewhat safe here, she whimpered softly in pain at the movement, glazed, empty eyes staring blankly ahead, barely registering anything she was seeing, lost in her own thoughts as she clenched her teeth and tried to block out the memories.

It wasn't long before a patrol found her, the woman hardly looking up until one of them said her name, somehow recognizing her under the filth and bruises and blood. She tilted her head back to stare up at the soldiers without a hint of recognition in her own dull, tired, frightened blue eyes. It took some coaxing for them to convince her to let them take her to the camp, the woman apparently intent on fighting them with what little strength she had before she eventually gave in, panting and trembling as they worked to carry her back. Two of the soldiers took her to the medical tent, a third going in an attempt to explain the situation to the medics, and the fourth soldier sprinting straight to Aladar's tent.

"Captain," he said breathlessly, barging into the tent in exactly the manner that most of the soldiers had been attempting to avoid since the man's first falling-out with the girl the company had adopted as their little sister. "We found Ali at the border. Something happened, she wouldn't tell us what. She's in the medical tent and... She doesn't look good, sir..."

By the time the message made it to Aladar, Ali had gotten somewhat settled, laying on a cot that wasn't hers in a partitioned-off area that the medics had set up for those soldiers requiring more privacy. She didn't sleep, staring blankly ahead, curled on her side on top of the blankets with her back to the entrance. With every inhale, her thin frame shuddered. An empty glass rested on the small table near the top of the bed, having held a calming mixture the medics offered her to help her relax considering the woman had not spoken a word or stopped shaking since she was brought in.

Slowly, he shifted the finished paper on top of the small pile he created to the side, the pen being brought slowly to the next one as tired brown eyes scanned over the words. One more page done... more to do. It was the way he liked it now, working on even some of the paperwork that the lower officials under his command would do. Anything to stay busy.

As one of the soldiers burst into his tent, his head slowly lifted, his gaze landing on the man. Urgency swept off the man in waves as Aladar stood, grabbing the water he had from the table, about to offer it to the soldier. But there was no time for him to ask the man to sit down and tell him what was going on. Because the words were out of the soldier’s mouth in an instant, Aladar’s eyes widening as his mind sorted through the words in broken fragments.

Ali... Border... Something happened... Medical tent... Doesn’t look good...

The water was practically dropped onto the table as he shoved past the man, his steps intent as he strode towards the medical tent. Worry painted his feature as his steps turned into a jog, which turned into a sprint as he slid by soldiers before throwing the tent flap open and ducking in. His head swiveled around, searching the faces there to find hers, to see what the soldier meant. If something happened to her...

“Aladar.” It was Lebuin, calling to the near frantic captain, motioning Aladar towards him to the area set up to give privacy to the soldiers in more dire need.

The captain said nothing as his steps lengthened to reach the medic as fast as possible, his face showing his fears as he followed Lebuin, stopping at the entrance to the little enclosed area. There is nothing to describe the feeling he felt as his heart came into his throat. She was so small... shuddering with every breath. His breaths began to match hers, causing his larger frame to shake slightly as he moved forward slowly, not saying anything as he blinked, trying to take in the damaged young woman that meant everything to him. Maybe she was married... maybe she had lied to him... maybe he had sent her away... but none of that meant he couldn’t be scared for her, try to offer his support, and comfort.

She was still bloody, hair tangled, and bruises evident where he could see them. My girl... He stopped again before he got within reach of her, struggling to see someone he loved so hurt. He had done this... If he hadn’t sent her away... The guilt welled up in his chest as he swallowed, finally moving forward again.

“Hey there...” His voice was gentle, soft, and quiet, almost pleading in nature as Lebuin quietly dismissed himself. “Ali...” Aladar was scared of how fragile she looked, finally nearing enough to ease himself onto the edge of the cot.

Up close... it was so much worse and he sucked in a breath. “What happened?” But his tone was not demanding, instead heartbroken and as bleeding as she must have been based on the dried patches he saw on her. Glancing back towards the opening, he paused his attention to her to call out. “Lebuin! Get me some damp rags please.”

His attention turned back on her and he ran a hand through his hair, wanting to take away her pain as he gingerly reached out towards her shoulder. He was sitting behind her, his touch gentle as he lightly rested his palm down. Had his hand always been so big compared to her? They were the same height, and yet he felt a million times larger compared to her now. “You’re safe now,” he tried to reassure gently. “You’re safe and you’re not going back...” He didn’t know what happened yet, but he needed her to relax and know he wasn’t letting her return to whatever had caused this.

When the warm cloth was brought to him, he stood, moving around to the side she was facing as he lowered himself back down to sit in front of her. Ever so gently his fingers reached for her chin, moving slowly as he tried to judge her reactions.

His voice broke as he saw her face, lip twitching as he had to rein his emotions in.

“Let me help you.”

She was just beginning to relax... To stop shaking so badly, to close her eyes and force deeper breaths even though the increased movement hurt. Here, in the center of a camp and surrounded by people she trusted with her life, she felt almost safe enough to close her eyes and seek the rest she so desperately needed... The days blurred together, eventually, but it had been too long since she'd slept and since she'd eaten a decent meal. While she couldn't help the hunger pangs at the moment, hurting too badly to think of eating at the moment, she could try to get some rest...

In the haze of her thoughts, she had forgotten that her main goal wasn't just to get back here. The part about convincing Aladar to let her stay, slipped her mind as she lay there, just slowly coming to terms with where she was, and understanding that she wasn't with Darren any longer.

She was beginning to drift off, to doze lightly, when Aladar's voice reached her ears. Even his gentle tone was too much of a change from the silence she had already grown accustomed to, the girl stiffening, eyes immediately wide and haunted with panic as she weakly tried to push herself to sit up, though her battered frame protested the movement and she laid back again as she bit back a hiss of pain. She shifted to look at him; dry, cracked lips parting, already attempting to speak, one hand moving unconsciously in front of her as if to keep him away...

Her panic lasted all of five seconds before she recognized him, and her hand fell, tears welling up in her eyes to replace most of the fear as she turned away again

"Aladar... I..."

Even her voice was broken, hoarse and weak and so utterly devoid of life that it hardly sounded like her anymore.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I know I-I wasn't supposed to... To come back..." She struggled to get the words out, but they seemed rehearsed, as if she'd repeated them over and over to herself and memorized them in preparation for this conversation. "I didn't know... anywhere else I could go..." She paused to catch her breath, eyes briefly widening once again in silent fear as she felt him sit beside her on the cot, still subconsciously waiting for his anger. It would come, she was sure... She'd said such terrible things... Even with all that had happened, the memory of how hateful she'd been was all too fresh in her mind, as was the cold look in his eyes when he finally sent her home...

The anger didn't come... Yet. Instead, he quietly asked what happened, and she shifted slightly, her knees drawn closer to her as she inhaled shakily, the rush of memories far too painful for her to comprehend.

"I-I went home," she forced out after a moment, eyes dark again as she held her arms tucked against her chest, seeming to try to make herself as small as possible. "My mother... wouldn't let me stay. I went to-..." She took another breath, eyes tightly closed for a moment. "To Darren... His new wife..." Her words both jumbled together and trailed off to awkward pauses, trying to arrange her thoughts in a somewhat coherent way although she could feel herself slipping somewhat from whatever they'd given her... Already, her breaths came a bit easier, her shaking slowly beginning to ease.

"H-he was the same as before... Worse..." Even her voice changed here, her words heavier and speech more sluggish. But when he abandoned his soft, gentle tone for a moment to call Lebuin, she stiffened again, instinctively flinching away from the loud noise as one hand moved to cover her right ear. Her somewhat calmed breaths returned to their panicked gasps, not easing again until she felt his gentle, soothing hand on her shoulder and heard his soft reassurance.

Though there was a part of her that wanted to flinch away from his touch, another longed to lean into it, to know and trust that his touch did not bring pain with it... She just wasn't there yet, and as he moved around to the other side of the cot, where she could see him, she watched him with an indescribable look in her eyes, a mix between gratefulness and panic, between relief and distrust, all of them mixed together in her blue eyes that were already so tired... So tired.

"You're safe and you're not going back."

Her eyes burned, tears welling up again as the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. Because she was watching him, expecting the feeling of him touching her bruised face, she did not flinch away, though she stiffened in anticipation of the pain, gritting her teeth as she fought the urge to move away. She was tired, though. And he said she was safe now... And even after all that had happened, the trust she had for him hadn't been totally shattered. That knowledge, combined with the drowsiness setting in, made her far more willing to let him help.

The worst of the bruising on her face was concentrated on the left side, her attacker clearly having made use of her deaf side, but there was also a deep cut from broken glass near her hairline which was the source of most of the blood on her face and shirt. Most, not all. Some came from other shallow cuts here and there, one on her back, one on her side, but the majority of her injuries were bruises. The deep blue, black, and purple kind of bruises that hurt for a long time.

As his hand came close enough, she reached up hesitantly, thin fingers wrapping loosely around his wrist. Not to stop him, not pushing him away, but a pointless gesture to give herself some sort of reassurance that she wasn't going to be hurt here.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she murmured softly as her voice broke, half to herself, her head resting against the cot again as she looked past him. "I'm sorry..."