Chapter Text
For all her talk about having eyes and ears everywhere and knowing absolutely everything that occurs in Nod-Krai, Nefer knows that she has failed Lauma.
Nefer knows that she had been too late, and that the damage had already been done, regardless of Lauma’s safe return to Nasha Town.
She bites her lip, threatening to break through skin.
She is not Lauma’s friend. No, of course not. She has to keep her at arm’s length. They are long-time acquaintances, at best. Surely she could not blame herself when the Moonchanter had wordlessly stopped visiting her at the Curatorium, nor could she have possibly linked the cause to the worst case scenario, could she?
She doesn’t understand how Lauma’s disappearance hadn’t even reached her ears until she had found out about a suspicious new product on the black market sourced from the Fatui themselves. It didn’t take long for her to find out what exactly the product was, of course, with how Lauma had treated her with the exact substance— and her first thought had been to kill every Fatuus she came across, neutrality be damned.
(She only ended up with the blood of one Fatuus on her hands, after she pried every single piece of information related to Lauma from the unsuspecting solider.)
From the now-dead soldier’s confession, the only silver lining had been that there weren’t any other samples of Lauma’s blood being circulated around the black market, just the one bottle that Nefer had quickly acquired and disposed of. She supposes she should thank the man for being selfish enough to swipe a sample for himself hoping to make quick Mora, unintentionally catching her attention. If it hadn’t been for him acting on his own accord, Nefer doesn’t know how long it would have taken her to find out.
(She would have sought Lauma out eventually, even though Nefer had subconsciously been avoiding the Moonchanter out of fear of her own emotions.)
Nefer slams her fist down, her desk shaking from the sheer force as her throat burns hot with an uncomfortable feeling festering deep underneath. Denying her fondness for the other woman would get her nowhere, especially after the wave of guilt that had crashed over her as she had practically begged the traveler to find Lauma.
She had not cared how uncharacteristically desperate she had sounded back then, not when Lauma’s life had been on the line.
How pathetic. That even when her heart’s desire had been to follow Lumine into the Experimental Design Bureau and decimate anyone she came across, her wretched consciousness had convinced her to maintain her neutrality at all costs. No matter what she personally wished for, she could not show the people of Nod-Krai that her policies could be broken on a whim when a friend— no, when an acquaintance’s life was in danger. That would make her simply too easy to take advantage of, and the Curatorium would lose credibility. The Fatui are a dangerous force she does not have the luxury to make an enemy of, so she couldn’t have possibly acted on her own to save a single person, no matter who they were.
But she could have. And she should have, especially after Lauma has been nothing but the benevolent, compassionate Moonchanter she always is, towards not only her own people but especially towards Nefer. The same Moonchanter that had bled for her without a second thought, narrowly preventing Nefer from the permanent blindness that would have completely changed the life she had built for herself.
And that is what kills Nefer the most. Lauma wouldn’t have given a moment’s hesitation had the roles been reversed, and Lauma would most likely forgive Nefer’s own hesitation without giving it so much as a thought.
Deep down, she knows she regrets not saving Lauma herself. She hates owing favours, and yet— she had the perfect opportunity to return Lauma’s own gesture of goodwill, and what did she do? She had sat anxiously in the Curatorium waiting for Lumine to return, a thousand scenarios running through her head as she wondered how to even face Lauma if she were to return alive.
What a ‘friend’ she is.
She doesn’t care how hypocritical she’s beginning to sound. How could she possibly refer to such a person as nothing but an acquaintance? That bit by bit, she hadn’t even realized how deep Lauma had burrowed her way into her closed-off heart?
She hates how useless she feels. Someone had been meticulous enough to evade her notice, and she hates that it had been Lauma, of all people, that had been affected by it— the one person that had done nothing to deserve such a thing.
Nod-Krai does not deserve someone so kind-hearted. She does not deserve someone like Lauma. Because in the end, it was always those with good intentions that suffered at the hands of others.
Nefer glances at the pile of reports she had printed out earlier, its contents full of experimental logs the traveler had swiped from the facility as evidence. The least she can do for now is to try and leverage this incident in a way that ensures Fatui could never attempt such a crime ever again.
There are no laws in Nod-Krai, but there are rules.
Gods above, she can’t focus. Nefer rests her hand on her eyelids, rubbing the fatigue and itchiness away. Her mind can’t help but wander, transporting her back to nearly three hours ago as she had stood over the unconscious form of the Moonchanter, desperately searching for signs of life.
They could not take her to the town’s hospital, lest they wanted everyone in Nod-Krai to know of the incident. As such, Nefer had brought in one of her trusted acquaintances to oversee Lauma’s recovery personally. While there hadn’t been major external injuries, it was clear she was suffering from something, her heartbeat so faint Nefer had almost believed her dead.
With the woman in question now resting in the other room of the office, Nefer debates what exactly to say once Lauma decides to wake up.
‘Hey, I didn’t rescue you but the traveler did, but I had her leave you here because I didn’t trust anywhere else. I’m still neutral, by the way.’
Nefer lets out a sigh of exasperation. What a mess she’s in. What a mess Lauma had gotten herself into.
She thumbs over the paper as she reaches for a single page, deciding to comb through the evidence while she waits for Lauma to wake.
Breath shaking, she braces herself as she begins to read through the first report.
—
23:35
Entry #4-1.
The bloodline of Hyperboreans run thin, and those of silver blood are an even rarer occurrence. Not all those within the Frostmoon Scions carry such a trait, and practices that aim to increase this number are frowned upon today. As a result, existing data regarding the exact properties of silver blood is minimal and no known research has ever been conducted. Furthermore, it would be more accurate to state that in the current age, even those with silver blood may not know of its full potential.
As luck would have it, I have recently received a tip-off that the current Moonchanter of the Frostmoon Scions carries this trait, and often isolates herself from the rest of her followers. From previous reports, this additionally seems to be the same Scion that had infiltrated our walls to steal back the Moon Marrow. How ironic, then, that she will find her way back soon enough. Perhaps I may even be able to glean information on the current whereabouts of the relic. This is a secondary objective, however.
No orders have been given to study the inhabitants of this land, but none have been given that restricts this area of research in particular. I will be focusing my efforts into acquiring this specimen as soon as possible.
- End of entry.
—
Nefer stops before moving on to the next entry, an emotion she doesn’t know she has ever felt before rising in her chest. The way they saw Lauma as nothing but a thing to study, the way they acted as if it was the most normal course of action in the world— Nefer doesn’t know if she has the stomach to read the rest of the entries.
She flips the page, regardless.
—
11:49
Entry #4-2
I had not specified a method of entrapment, as long as it is conducted discreetly and with the least amount of conflict possible in order to avoid any future complications. Squad 3 returned with success, with minimal harm to the subject.
As the first of her kind, I will be referring to her as Subject I. It is not currently clear whether I will have the resources to conduct additional experiments unless more bearers of silver blood are reported.
In order to ensure accurate data collection, all wounds have been checked and treated, although they are few in number. Upon regaining consciousness, Subject I remained docile and made no attempts to escape, though she responded with waryness and hostility to my questions. As precaution, certain methods have been planned in advance in the case of behaviour that disrupts the experiment.
For the first extraction, I have taken three 100mL vials as preliminary tests. Although its medicinal properties have not yet been observed, I have concluded that their composition is fundamentally different from red blood, though the basic organic makeup is the same. Silver blood seems to contain traces of kuuvahki energy, which is perhaps the basis for their affinity to the moon.
I believe that more evidence is needed in order to determine its full potential.
- End of entry.
—
Nefer thinks she’s going to be sick. She grips the report in her hand so tightly that her fingers tremble and draw creases in the paper, and if it wasn’t important evidence she’s sure she would have ripped it apart and thrown it into the air.
How could they do this to Lauma? How could they target the one person that stood for nothing but peace and unity? What had she ever done to them?
She continues to flip through the files, occasionally feeling her anger flare up before attempting to push it back down with minimal success. The majority of the entries starting with the number 4 seemed to recount the same procedure detailed in 4-2. If her estimate is correct, Lauma had been taken nearly two weeks ago, and one entire week had been dedicated to simply extracting her blood.
Two weeks. Nefer hadn’t known for two weeks.
Lauma isn’t a daily visitor of the Curatorium, much less Nasha Town as a whole. She prefers to stay within her Enclave, although she has occasionally started to visit Nefer a little more often after their collaboration against the Rächer of Solnari. Even so, both Lauma and Nefer are busy people in a busy nation— it hadn’t been rare for them to go weeks without talking to each other, especially after the state Rerir had left Nod-Krai in.
But this is a different matter entirely. She of all people should have known that something drastic had happened to Lauma, especially when it involved a force as dangerous as the Fatui.
Nefer wordlessly glances at the wall next to her, feeling some sort of relief knowing that Lauma is now safe in her hands in the next room over. She doesn’t know if she would have ever forgiven herself if Lauma hadn’t made it out alive.
She turns her attention back to the files, growing tense by the minute as she realizes just how much material there was. Either this researcher was aspiring to be a writer, or they hadn’t given Lauma a moment to spare. She turns another page, before immediately averting her eyes at the contents.
Steeling herself, and to make sure her eyes are working correctly, Nefer slowly glances back at the page. The file is labeled ‘Appendix - Reference Entries #5-1 and #5-2’, ones that Nefer had not been able to take a look at just yet. Printed pictures of what she assumes is Lauma— close ups of her eyes, her teeth, her antlers, and other parts of her body are each labeled with a reference number. There are others, of course, that show exactly how Lauma had been treated within the facility. Nefer wants to personally burn each individual picture in her fireplace— no one should be able to see someone else in such a vulnerable state, and Nefer contemplates apologizing to Lauma herself for doing so.
Nefer can’t really bring herself to read the rest of the entries, but morbid curiosity eventually takes over as she glances over at the first entry labeled #5.
—
19:01
Entry #5-1
Kuuvahki seems to have a strong influence on those with silver blood, although the correlation has not been completely proven. Their bodies react to the energy in a different manner compared to the average human. Those with antlers, in particular, seem to be more sensitive.
I have built several kuuvahki devices during my stay in Nod-Krai, each mimicking the natural state of kuuvahki, including its intensity. For future tests, I will be testing the level of intensity that can be withstood by those with silver blood, and whether this data conflicts with those of normal blood. The aforementioned correlation could be scientifically proven with enough evidence.
21: 25
Entry #5-2
The 3rd round of testing has finished without any major problems. Subject I was able to endure up to the second to last intensity of kuuvahki for the first test, and up to the third last for the subsequent two tests. At approximately minute 20:32, the subject exhibited signs of intense stress and fatigue, as well as bleeding from the nose and mouth. Pushing the subject any further than intensity VI has not been observed as evidence suggests the subject would be in danger of fatal internal injury.
Subject’s antlers were observed to react strongly towards the flow of kuuvahki, growing the stronger the intensity. Note: come back to this. It may be worth observing whether they grow regardless of their attachment to the original body.
—
Nefer slams the files shut. This monster had even entertained the idea of breaking her antlers off. She thought she knew the extent of the Fatui’s brutality, but this was clearly crossing whatever line she believed them to have. She can only think of one person within the organization that has the resources and is obsessed enough to conduct something like this— and the thought deeply unsettles her.
Lauma had confided in her, once, about her sensitivity to the moon. It had been a late-night conversation that somehow transitioned into Lauma telling her of her worries; since that night, Nefer had decidedly agreed to keep a steady supply of medicine for Lauma’s condition.
To think one of her worst fears had been used against her in this manner— Nefer almost considers using Aino’s cannon to launch the Design Bureau into the stratosphere, right then and there.
She pushes the stack of paper aside, having had enough of the mad doctor’s ramblings. She could finish the rest another day, when she could stomach it. She subconsciously starts rubbing at her closed eyes once more, fingers frozen in place when she remembers Lauma telling her to abstain from the habit.
At that moment, Nefer snaps her head up as she hears the rustling of fabric and the creak of wood, jumping from her seat as she sees Lauma entering the room.
“N…Nefer?” Her voice is weak, barely a whisper against the crackle of the fireplace.
“Lauma? Stay— stay there, don’t try to stand.” Nefer rushes to her side in an instant, managing to hold onto the other woman before Lauma almost falls to the ground, legs too unstable to keep her up.
Nefer gently leads her to the nearby couch, trying not to think about how light she felt. Had she been given any kind of sustenance during her imprisonment? Surely that was the case, if they were trying to extract her blood— yet she has clearly lost considerable weight, if the fact that Nefer is able to carry her with ease isn’t enough of a sign.
“You… should be resting, Lauma. Why did you get up?” Nefer says, ignoring the fact that Lauma’s head gradually rolls towards Nefer’s shoulder, leaning against exposed skin that’s getting increasingly hotter by the minute.
Lauma takes a second to respond, her eyes opening and closing in a sluggish manner. “...I thought… I thought I was still there, for a brief moment after I woke. And then… I smelled a familiar fragrance, and… and knew it was you.” Lauma’s breath is warm against her skin as Nefer tenses slightly, unsure of where to put her hands. She hasn’t ever attempted to comfort someone like this, let alone someone who’s currently curled up on her shoulder, but Nefer knows that of all people, Lauma needed this warmth.
“Well. You’re safe now, so don’t worry. The traveler went out of their way to help, so you should thank them when you have the chance.” Nefer realizes she completely glossed over what Lauma had said before— what familiar fragrance? Was Lauma referring to the Curatorium, or Nefer herself?
She snaps out of that train of thought, deciding to rest one of her hands on Lauma’s arm as she senses the other woman falling back asleep.
In that instant, Lauma’s arm jerks away in an almost instinctive manner, her eyes fluttering open as she lets out a sharp inhale. Nefer pulls back her hand immediately in retaliation, seeing that it had been a rather bad decision on her part. Lauma’s unfocused eyes eventually meet Nefer’s own gaze, realization dawning on her as she reaches out for Nefer’s hand once more.
“Nefer, I— I’m so sorry, I… don’t know what came over me.” Lauma’s expression looks so pained that Nefer wishes she could personally dig her claws into Dottore’s face, and somehow make her forget about anything he had done to her.
“Don’t apologize for that. I should be the one apologizing, in fact.” Nefer makes a noise with her tongue. She should be the one apologizing for a lot of things, a list too long for her to make Lauma sit through.
“...No, not at all…and… I know… I know you asked Lumine to help, didn’t you?” Lauma looks up at her, her eyes still so bright and full of gratitude. Even after what she had gone through, it was clear her gentleness knew no bounds. “Truly, from the bottom of my heart… thank you.”
Nefer turns away from Lauma, hiding her face. “You don’t— you don’t need to thank me for something like that. I couldn’t just…” She trails off, guilt from how she had prioritized her status in Nod-Krai over Lauma’s personal safety eating away at her. She couldn’t possibly have her cake and eat it too, could she? How can she explain to Lauma that deep inside, she wishes to both maintain her neutrality and make an exception for the leader of the Frostmoon Scions?
Another silence passes over them. Lauma continues to rest on her shoulder, her arm somehow having made its way across Nefer’s thigh. Nefer briefly wonders if she should carry her back to her room, but a selfish part of her wishes they could stay in this position for a bit longer.
Nefer trails her gaze down, taking in Lauma’s form more closely for the first time that day. Lumine had brought Lauma bundled in a blanket, so Nefer had taken the liberty to put her into Nefer’s own spare clothes that evening. There are faint red marks all along her limbs, signs of clear chafing against some sort of resistant material. Nefer tries not to notice the same marks along her neck, as well.
Lauma, no longer dozing off, slowly raises her head from Nefer’s shoulder. Nefer hopes Lauma doesn’t see the disappointment that flashes across her expression.
Nefer hesitantly reaches a hand out, making sure Lauma is aware of her intentions this time. “Can I…?”
Lauma nods, giving Nefer a small smile. With her approval, Nefer gently puts her hand on Lauma’s arm, softly tracing along the offending marks, wishing she had the ability to heal Lauma just as she had for Nefer’s own injuries. Finally, Nefer reaches Lauma’s hand, taking in the sight of her scars once more. She’d seen them before, but Lauma has never personally told her the reason for them in the first place— though now, Nefer can hazard a guess, especially after her own treatment.
“So, these…”
Lauma makes a noise of agreement. “Yes, I… I was… going to tell you eventually, I just…”
Nefer lets out a huff. “You’re too trusting. Something like this— the less people know about it, the better. Clearly.” She feels Lauma tense slightly under her touch, but doesn’t make an attempt to refute her statement.
Nefer squeezes Lauma’s hand, frustration boiling underneath her calm facade. In all honesty, Nefer has been the naïve one. If Lauma hadn’t possessed even a shred of hesitation cutting herself to heal her eyes, then it shouldn’t have been out of the question that she would have done the same for countless others all this time. She should have warned Lauma to stop, to be more careful, especially now that she’s fully aware of just how valuable Lauma’s bloodline is. Someone like Nefer should have known of the dangers that came with possessing such a quality.
Nefer shifts in her seat uncomfortably. She knows she needs to decide how she feels about Lauma— standing on the fence and refusing to confront her own feelings has done nothing but result in a terrible experience for Lauma herself.
The frustration threatening to break through her mask slowly turns into something more akin to anger. Someone like Lauma only ever gave and gave, even if it meant bleeding herself dry. Quite literally. Like a beautiful bed of flowers growing in the wild, those drawn by their allure all cut themselves a bulb without a care for how it left the rest.
Nefer’s not entirely free of guilt, either.
Lauma lets out a small whimper that Nefer barely catches, the noise sounding unfamiliar from the Moonchanter. Nefer immediately reels back her mind from wandering, appalled at the sort of thoughts that spawn from hearing such a sound. She clears her throat, casting an apologetic glance as she stops squeezing.
Nefer’s mind wanders to the reports on her table, wondering if she should bring them up to Lauma. Most of the content isn’t anything Lauma doesn’t know personally, of course, and it’s getting increasingly obvious she wouldn’t want another recollection of the event from the perspective of her assailant.
She moves her hand from Lauma’s own, before slowly bringing them up to reach towards Lauma’s face. The Moonchanter seems startled at the action, and to be completely honest with herself, Nefer doesn’t quite know how or why her hand has found its way there, either. She hesitantly starts to peel her hand away, but Lauma leans into the touch, her initial surprise nowhere to be seen.
“I’ve… never seen you like this, Nefer. You look so worried.” Lauma almost lets out a laugh, a sound that Nefer wants to engrave in her memory for as long as possible. “Did I… did I concern you that much?”
“Don’t even try that with me right now, Lauma.” Nefer grips Lauma’s face even tighter, thankful that her claws had been tossed somewhere into her desk long ago. It isn’t like Lauma is going anywhere, and yet— letting go now feels like it would be one and the same. “You could’ve died in there, had we been too late.”
Lauma averts her eyes, abruptly finding the couch beneath them to be extremely interesting. Nefer can’t help but bite at her own lip, knowing Lauma unintentionally relives her experience in the facility every time Nefer brings up the subject, while also knowing there’s nothing she can say or do to help Lauma. At least, not without the help of time.
“I… know it’s going to take a while, Lauma. To put everything behind you.” Nefer drops her voice to a low whisper, close enough only for Lauma to hear. She knows it may be fruitless, but it can’t hurt to try.
She gently guides Lauma’s face back up, letting her make eye contact once more. “And I worry for your safety, if we were to let you go back to Hiisi Island alone. So… you should stay here, for the time being. At least, until we’re sure they won’t be coming back for you.”
Frankly, the words feel awkward to let out, like she’s never spoken a single genuine sentence in her life. Nefer almost laughs— perhaps that was accurate, for someone like her.
Another moment passes before Nefer suddenly feels something wet drop onto her thigh. She looks down, and back up, her mind unusually slow today.
Lauma’s eyes are welling up with tears.
“Oh.” Nefer slowly drops her hand, unsure of how to respond. She’s never been good with people crying in front of her. Strangely enough, she would have initially believed the other woman to be incapable of such a thing, but she knows there are no worlds in which tears could not be shed.
Lauma puts a hand to her mouth, holding back a muffled cry. She turns away from Nefer, blinking away the tears as she screws her eyes shut, evidently trying to calm herself. Nefer swallows, her throat feeling uncomfortably hot. Did Lauma want her to leave, or did she want Nefer to comfort her?
In the end, she decides to give Lauma time, fidgeting with one of her tassels as she patiently waits. Perhaps it’s better if she stays silent.
Eventually, Lauma reels in her emotions, tears no longer present. Her gaze wanders, unable to look Nefer in the eye. “I’m… I’m so, so sorry, Nefer, I—”
Nefer immediately puts a finger to Lauma’s lips. Lauma looks just as surprised as Nefer herself, who somehow is able to shift her expression back to normal in the blink of an eye.
“Stop apologizing. I’m getting tired of exactly two things that always come out of that mouth of yours.” Nefer takes her finger off and raises another one. “‘Thank you’, and ‘sorry’. You give words of gratitude even to those that are far from deserving of them, and you say words of apology to those that need none, nor expect any from you.”
There is a brief silence, before Lauma smiles. Nefer has no idea what part of her complaint would elicit such a reaction. “I… I suppose I have the tendency to do that. When you put it that way.”
Sighing, Nefer reaches for a handkerchief that had been neatly folded on the coffee table, tossing the cloth towards Lauma to use. “As long as you understand.”
She can’t change Lauma’s nature, as much as Lauma can’t change hers. Even though present events would suggest otherwise— Nefer’s affection for the Moonchanter is an exception, not her current norm. But… working toward settling their differences could never hurt.
“Yes, Nefer, I do.” Lauma lets out a small giggle, a soft look returning in her eyes. Nefer raises an eyebrow, still not quite sure why Lauma’s looking at her with such fondness.
Nefer shifts her attention to the window, eyeing the moonlight spilling through the curtains. “...You should go to sleep. It’s late, and… you need to rest.” Nefer nods towards the next room over, trying not to think about the reports on her desk.
“Ah. Where will you be staying, then?”
“I’ll… I’ll be here, Lauma.” Nefer stands up from the couch, refusing to meet Lauma’s gaze. ‘I can’t leave you here alone.’
“On the couch?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, just…” Lauma puts a hand to her arm, clutching the skin tightly.
Nefer comically halts, nearly frozen in place. Surely Lauma’s not asking her to sleep with her, is she?
But it makes sense, rationally speaking— Lauma would obviously have trouble going back to sleep, much less in a room by herself barely even a day after she had been in the Fatui’s ‘care’. Nefer looks at Lauma, then the bedroom, and back at Lauma once more. This woman was lucky Nefer only had space in her heart left for her, and no one else.
She’s already in the habit of granting Lauma’s ridiculous requests one by one, anyway. What’s one more?
Nefer coughs. Somehow, she thinks this one’s another level of ridiculous.
But it’s the least she could do, is it not?
“Okay. Fine. Just tonight.” Nefer pretends not to see Lauma’s expression visibly light up. Why does it feel as if Lauma ends up winning every single one of their exchanges? (She can’t blame anyone but herself.) “No one hears of this, alright? No one.”
“...Who would I tell, Nefer?”
“W-whatever, just— get to bed. I’ll be there in a second.” Nefer huffs, waving her hand. She never stammers. What is Lauma even doing to her?
Footsteps on the carpet draw near as Nefer turns to the source of the noise, seeing that Lauma had already gotten up from the couch. At that moment, Lauma brings her hands up to grab onto Nefer’s, green eyes widening in surprise.
“I realize you told me to say these words less, but…” Lauma clasps their hands together even tighter. “I really am sorry for troubling you. And— truly, thank you. You’re always doing so much for my sake, but this… I often wonder how lost I would be without you by my side, Nefer.” Her voice trembles a little as she finishes the sentence.
“...Probably quite lost, if we’re being honest, no?” Nefer responds after a brief silence, deciding to ignore the weird feeling in her stomach. “It’s fine, I’m not gonna ask for compensation for something like this, anyway.” How can she? She isn’t the one who had been strapped to a table for two weeks.
Lauma smiles. That dumb, soft smile of hers. Nefer hates just how easily it makes her mind go blank. At least Lauma looks a little better compared to when she had just woken up. Nefer wonders just how much of that had to do with their conversation.
The Moonchanter eventually lets go of her hand to turn towards the bedroom, then looks back at Nefer. As if to tell her, ‘I’ll be waiting.’
Nefer feels the corners of her mouth curl up, returning the smile.