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Elena didn't know whether she was glad someone had come to check on her, or ashamed that she'd made such a thing necessary in the first place. It was likely a mixture of both.
It was so much easier to suffer in silence. She hated the idea of anyone worrying for her, even though she knew full well that she'd given them every reason to. It was so humiliatingly obvious that she was getting worse.
Sune curse her, even with Minthara by her side she was still getting worse.
Maybe it was time to give up after all.
"Give me the knife, Elena." her muse told her, and she obeyed without looking her in the eye. Her touch stung even though she was so, so gentle with her. Like handling fragile pottery.
Elena's wrists were already a mess. There was hardly any space left to cut, but she'd found some. It would heal ugly, she knew that much from experience, but it wasn't like she was holding out much hope of starting a modelling career, anymore.
It always felt weird to be healed by magic, and she almost squirmed away from the sensation of her skin being re-knit. Her weakness shamed her.
They sat together in silence, for a little while. Just staring out at the flowing river, Elena's wrist still in Minthara's hands as the Drow rubbed gentle patterns into her palm.
"I'm tired, Minthara." Elena said quietly, answering a question that was never asked. "I'm just so... tired. I don’t know how much longer I can do this."
"Our journey will soon be over, my love. Our enemies await us in the city, and I know you have the strength to overcome them. Even if you don't believe it yourself." Minthara replied, oh so sweetly, always so ready to offered comfort and reassurance. And she meant well, she meant to uplift Elena and see her flourish, but she couldn't simply reach into her heart and pluck out all the spiny, venomous things that'd been eating away at it for years.
That's not how it worked.
"But that's just the thing." Elena began, her voice beginning to shake as tears pricked at her eyes. "I've tried being strong for you, but I've had to be strong this entire journey and I just can't do it anymore. I... I want to be done, I want to rest, but every day there's some new fresh hell waiting for us and I just fucking CAN'T!"
She broke down crying in earnest, then. And like so many times before, Minthara let her. She held her, she stroked her back, she kept her steady as she let it all out. It was a deluge of pain and exhaustion, like a river bursting its banks. It threatened to undo her, to drown her, and all she could think about was how Minthara would have to keep pulling her up again and again until one of them was dead.
Minthara would do that for her if she had to, Elena thought. She was so devoted, so loyal, far more than Elena would ever have hoped for in her wildest dreams.
Perhaps that is why she felt such guilt for still being a mess of a girl.
"I... thought finding true love would fix me. Give me what I needed to overcome the horrors of this world... Of my own broken soul..." the violinist sniffled, still partially buried in her paladin's shoulder. Her words came out broken and watery. "That's how it always goes in the stories. But-- I still hurt myself, I still w-wish I could just lay down and... die, some nights. It's downright tempting when I think of what lies ahead-"
"Please don't leave me like that."
The reply was sudden, and Elena was shocked by just how vulnerable her beloved sounded in that moment. She'd lowered her guard before, but never like this. She sounded so... afraid, almost desperate.
Elena turned to look Minthara in the eyes, blinking away the tears that still flowed from her own. Minthara almost looked ready to cry, too. It would seem the both of them had made a habit of looking strong for the other's sake.
"I have had to witness so many of the people I've loved leave this world before their time. Some of them... by my own hand. But please, not you. Oh my sweet innocent child, I... I'm so sorry." Minthara almost rambled, before clutching Elena tightly, and Elena clutched her back. Because she didn't want to die, not truly.
She only wanted the pain to stop. She wanted to rest.
It hurt seeing her protector like this, even more so knowing that she was the cause of her distress. Maybe if she'd just kept it to herself, then... it would almost surely come out anyway. Eventually, she would have snapped. Hells, she did snap.
"I'm not cut out for this, Minthara... I love you, but I'm not l-like you. I'm no soldier, I'm no leader... That damned cult took me just days after I left... her, when I was out on the street trying to find somewhere warm to sleep. It... It's not fair!" Elena exclaimed with a fresh flood of tears, trembling with every new confession. "I'd never k-killed anyone before the nautiloid, and now my hands are drenched in blood. Gods, I can still remember how those goblins screamed as they burned... There... There were children in that camp..."
Even talking about it made it feel like she was back there, in that hell of ash and blood. And there were more times like it. The crèche, the horrors of the Underdark... None of the others had seemed affected, so she'd never tried talking to any one of them about it.
There wasn't much time to stop and cry on someone's shoulder when you were fighting for your life every day, so she'd dealt with it all in the usual way. With the knife.
"You only did what you had to. It was you or them." Minthara tried to reassure her, reaching up to swipe away a tear with her thumb. "And were it up to me, I would choose you every time. Your light is far too precious to be snuffed out."
"It might be anyway, if I'm forced to keep going like this."
Elena wasn't sure if she was speaking literally or metaphorically. It hardly made a difference, because it was true either way. All this constant violence was eating at her, making it hard to see the bright spots in life. All her songs lately had been so sad, sounded so hollow and hopeless, a reflection of the artist's malaise. She'd yet to finish any of the ballads she'd promised Minthara.
"I want to see you smile, again." the Drow whispered softly, unprompted, stroking her cheek soothingly. "Soon, it will be over. The Dead Three are running out of options, and once the Elder Brain has been... handled, you will be out of enemies. I promise you, Elena, mrimmd'ssinss, you will know peace. I will bring you it no matter the cost."
Her first instinct was to reject that promise. Minthara may think now that she would be content by Elena's side, but the young bard knew her lover, knew her ambition. She still had her own enemies to deal with, a crusade through Menzoberranzan to perpetrate, a vow of vengeance to make good on. She couldn't keep making Elena happy forever, and Elena would never force her to, even though she wanted that life so badly it hurt. Every night she dreamt of spending the rest of her days with Minthara, at peace, free of strife and with no duties or obligations to pull them apart.
Elena would be content, like that. But Minthara wanted the world. She'd never feel safe unless she had it.
"...I can't be a millstone around your neck forever. Do you truly wish to spend however many years I have left talking me out of the noose? Supporting me in my art, keeping me out of trouble, protecting me until I grow grey and senile? Hells, if I even get that far. What if not even getting the life I've always wanted makes me get better? You could come home one day, to find me dead on the bedroom floor, with a-"
"I would rather spend a few comfortable years with you than rule House Baenre for centuries alone." Minthara cut her off, definitively, in that firm tone of voice she only used when hoping to make herself absolutely clear. It probably wasn't too pleasant for her to have to think about Elena's bloody corpse right now, either, a realisation that only came to the girl now. Gods, she'd been cruel, but that hadn't even occurred to her as she tried to make the point that she simply wasn't worth the effort to keep alive, let alone happy.
"I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." Elena mumbled, tears pricking at the edges of her eyes once more.
"It's alright, my love." Minthara replied with a measured exhale. "It's alright. I know that you are in pain, and I see now that whatever is keeping you from seeing a brighter future for us both isn't something I can solve with a few kind words and a snap of my fingers. I was naive to think I could. But I will never stop trying to help you, I will never stop shouldering any burden of yours I can, and I will never leave you. No matter what. The world may have hurt you, but I promise you I will hold you up long enough for you to heal and stand on your own."
The Drow gently cupped Elena's chin, and brought her face up so they could look eachother in the eye. There was no judgement. No disappointment. Minthara looked so soft, so accepting, almost... motherly. She leaned in to press a kiss between the Tiefling's curved horns.
"I won't let you fall." she whispered. "You can relax. Trust me, as I trust you."
"I... want to trust you." Elena replied. "Maybe I can. Maybe... we can find a way to make things better. Together."
She laid her head on Minthara's shoulder, and closed her weary eyes.
Minthara cradled Elena in her arms as she slept. They shared a tent on most nights to be fair, but tonight there was no question of it. Elena didn't trust herself to be alone, and Minthara needed her presence more than she was willing to openly admit. If she were to indulge her more paranoid side, she might never let her go.
Her bard looked strangely peaceful, like this. Clutching her precious Seafoam with Minthara pressed against her back. She would have let her sleep with her head on her chest, but the horns would have gotten in the way. Such long, sharp things. Minthara had grabbed them quite forcefully once during a moment of intimacy, and been quickly reprimanded for her impertinence. Apparently, the Tiefling's former partner had made a habit of using them to slam her into walls and other objects. After that, Elena and her had made sure to establish boundaries on when and how she was allowed to touch her like that.
Minthara had never met Elena's ex, but she had already decided she would kill her. Or at least break a few of her bones, the important ones, as retribution. And for her own personal satisfaction, of course. Her beloved bard may abhor violence, but something told her she may approve of at least that.
It was an awful thing that such a gentle soul would have to be exposed to the horrors of fighting for one's life at such a young age. Minthara had gone through something similar, and while it had done well to prepare her for the grim reality of the world, she would never wish such a thing on Elena. She deserved better.
Of course, there was a way to ensure nobody would ever hurt her again, far beyond what Minthara was capable of on her own.
Slowly, carefully so to not disturb her sleeping lover, she reached over to Elena's discarded backpack and quietly opened the clasp on one of the side pockets. Everyone in this camp had a terrible habit of keeping their things in a disorganised, unruly mess, but Ketheric's netherstone was far too precious to let be swept up in all that.
It was curious. Such a small thing, yet even holding it made her fingers tingle with power that yearned to be released, should it only be reunited with its siblings. She could solve all their problems so easily. Seize the brain, and eradicate anyone and anything that could possibly hope to harm her precious little girl. Keep her safe forever.
Of course... Elena could never forgive such a thing. She was too kind, too loving. Not to mention too exhausted. Just imagining how much stress the bard would be put under if she'd suddenly be forced to rule an empire made Minthara nervous.
No, she would still be hurt, like that. Just in different ways.
By Minthara. Someone she trusted, someone she loved.
Minthara couldn't put her through that and become another corrupt, failed partner to the poor girl.
Yet even still, as she put the stone back where she found it and closed the clasp holding it secure, Minthara did not forget about its potential. Perhaps, if all else failed, she could still protect her beloved bard...