Han works the knots in a bubble of silence. Where she goes, the quiet follows. Where she leaves, the whispers start. Never to her face, oh no. Goddess forbid someone should say an [i]unkind word[/i] and ruin the mood, right? Much better to blame someone behind their back, where you can be as brave as you think you are.

Whatever. She doesn’t have anything to say to them anyway. She has...other things to think about.

The Priestess. She hasn’t said a word to her since the N’yari left, and it’s the smartest move she’s made all evening. Do y’get it, bud? Do y’see why you should’ve left her alone? Now you know; next time you see the toughest girl in the room keeping to herself, you return the favor. That’s nature’s way of telling you somebody’s trouble, and all the best intentions in the world can’t save you from what’ll happen. (She thought she was being careful. She thought she remembered where it fell. All the same, the Priestess holds a shattered handle.) 

The trip home. No umbrella. No hat. No poncho. No problem. Not like she was getting any wetter. It was getting late, but so what? Not like she had a carriage to catch. (Not like anybody was waiting on her.) She’d get there when she got there, alright? Things happened on the road. That’s how it was.

Machi. Machi. Stupid, stupid, Machi. 

What were you [i]thinking?![/i] Did you seriously expect her to just, just swoon to pieces, because. Because! She wasn’t. Gonna. That wasn’t gonna happen. It wasn’t gonna _ever _ happen. And you’d have to be an absolute rockhead to think otherwise. And now. (Her chest feels. Light. Lighter than it should. Wrong, now. It remembers the weight, the pressure, the [i]warmth.[/i] It may never forget.) Shut up. (A blur. A dizzying, blazing blur. Both of them. Impossible, to pick a moment right now, and not get lost in them all.) Shut up! (She meant it. She meant it. She meant it. She meant it all, and more. All of it.) Shut! Up!!!

“Sometime today, catkisser.”

Han blinks into the iron face of a scowling bridesmaid. Did she just- “You wanna run that by me again?”

“I said. Sometime today. [i]Catkisser.”[/i]

Oh. [i]Now[/i] there’s some backbone.

“Please.” Another sits nearby, massaging her sore wrists. “Don’t make a scene. We don’t want any more trouble.”

“Any [i]more[/i] trouble, huh?” Han barely turns to her, and she wilts immediately. “Is that what you think’s gonna happen? One wrong move, and I pick up where the N’yari left off?”

The bound girl sniffs. “Don’t shout so much, I can still smell the cat on your breath.”

And that’s when the silence hits her. Nobody’s whispering anymore. No one makes a sound. They stare at her, or around her, all their attentions orbiting her, and she sees the expectation in their wide eyes and too-tense limbs. Nobody knows what’s about to happen. But everybody suspects they know. 

They’re wondering who will come to save them the second time.

Han rises, and carries the bound bridesmaid with her. No one breathes. “Here.” She tosses her into the lap of her companion. “You in a rush? Do it yourself.” A chorus of indignant oaths strike at her back; she ignores them. (Others are already rushing to help. To soothe her. To glare in solidarity at the unbelievably rude Highland thug.) She binds her sword anew, slings it over her back, and in a single leap clears the stream to the riverbank.

Who needed a stupid boat anyway? She had two good feet. She could walk. It wasn’t that far. She wasn’t that wet. Her arm didn’t ache that much.

She didn’t need any of them.

She didn’t need anyone.

[Marking Angry.]