Chapter Text
“Rin.”
She freezes, her hands resting on the freshly washed blankets she would hang for sun drying.
Rin hasn’t heard that voice in a long, long time except for her dreams.
Turning around, Rin finds herself face to face with Yin Nezha, the president of the Republic of Nikan, a man she once loved in another lifetime.
Unsurprisingly, he looks older. Nezha looks like he’s carried the weight of an entire country on his shoulders.
Chaghan kept them well-informed; nearly ten years ago, Vaisra died a mysterious death, and no one’s quite sure how he perished, but only that the Republic’s first president was dead. Poison, the most popular rumors said, but no one knew who the poisoner was or what type of poison was used.
Despite his promises of democracy, Nezha became the next president without another election of the so-called Dragon Republic, which surprised no one.
The Hesperians pulled out of Nikan a few years later after tales of an invasion brewed on their homeland and an angry dictator with a mustache instigated a new war.
It didn’t seem like they would be coming back anytime soon.
“Nezha,” Rin murmurs, her shoulders going tight and her voice hitching at his name.
Rin isn’t the same as she used to be either. All of her rage and fury burned out of her, leaving a shell of herself, as such vicious anger had no place on the Hinterland plains.
But Rin is happier, she thinks, no longer needing the adrenaline of battle to keep her satiated. No one here insults her directly to her face, implying that she is less than because of her dark skin, or that she is a savage because she is Speerly.
Well, no one except for Chaghan, but it’s Chaghan. The rules are different for him and Rin.
Eventually, Chaghan taught her how to truly meditate, along with Suni and Baji, but not before insulting them all and their levels of intelligence several times and it helped after a lifetime of fighting for her humanity.
Her gaze roves over her hungrily, and Rin represses a shiver. She had forgotten what it felt like to be stared at by Yin Nezha.
Nezha always had the grace of a predator, his confidence giving the impression that he stalked his prey. At thirty-three, that self-assurance had not vanished. He looked so much like his father, but lacked Vaisra’s casual cruelty. Nezha also possesses the heavy white scarring on the side of his face, a memento osofter,f their time at Khurdalain.
But it’s not as if Rin was unchanged either. She’s not softer but her body has changed, no longer starving on reduced war rations and the fear of being chased fading from her mind.
The weight of her heavy braid on her back reminds her of her long hair, now reaching the middle of her back, just like she had it before attending Sinegard Academy. The kids taught her how to braid it in the Ketreyid styles, pulling it neatly away from her face.
“You’re a hard person to find,” Nezha notes, stepping into the round yurt. She does her best not to back up, to not show fear because where else would she go? Nezha blocked her only way out.
Her heart races, fingers clenching around the edge of her basket at the sound of his words. Even after all this time, his voice is a balm to her soul. She’s missed him.
“Probably because I didn’t want to be found,” Rin retorts. She doesn’t know why Nezha was fucking here. What could he possibly want from her?
He had his fucking Republic, his precious democracy. Nezha has everything he could possibly need. It is his name the history books will remember. “Why are you here?”
Nezha narrows his almond-shaped eyes and Rin lifts her chin defiantly; she owes him nothing and she won’t back down.
“You left me,” Nezha murmurs and her blood runs cold.
Where was her fire? Rin owed him nothing. So why was she trembling? Like a coward. But why did he sound so hurt?
“The war was over,” Rin spits out, edging away as Nezha takes another step closer. “I didn’t have much of a place in your Republic and neither did the Cike.”
He knew this. With the Hesperians and their fervent fanaticism about their maker, Rin and her god had no future in their Republic.
But why did he sound so hurt?
“Why are you here, Nezha?” Rin asks stiffly. Surely, he wasn’t here to drag her and the Cike back. They might have been deserters, but surely, he wasn’t that fucking petty.
Nezha stares at her in disbelief. “Rin-”
“Mama!” Batu bursts into the hut, freezing when he sees Nezha standing there. He is amongst the gaggle of children Rin looks after, orphaned when the Naimad clan clashes with the Nikaras. “Oh-” he glances shyly at Nezha before peering around him to look at Rin.
“Go outside,” Rin murmurs and Batu hesitates. “Now, please.” He’s not involved in this; he doesn’t need to be caught in the crossfire.
Batu disappears behind the tent flap, and Rin breathes a sigh of relief. Whatever Nezha wants with her, it doesn’t need to involve the Naimad clan.
“Mama?” Nezha echoes, disbelief in his voice. Rin can hear the unspoken question.
“He’s not mine, you idiot,” she snaps, rather rudely. “I just look after them. Do we even look alike?” Baji has teased her relentlessly about her penchant for picking up strays. Dulin, Pipaji, Lianhua, and Jiuto, to name a few. Rin has a soft spot for orphans, she knows this.
How could she not?
Whatever tension was he holding in his shoulders releases when she answers his unspoken question, but Rin still doesn’t have her answer.
“What are you doing here?” Rin repeats, setting her jaw.
Nezha stares at her, honesty gleaming in his eyes. “To see you.”
To see her? To see her? What in the ever-loving fuck did that mean?
“Well, you’ve seen me,” she grits out, her hands still curled around the basket. She needs to get out of here, feeling as if she couldn’t breathe with Nezha’s presence suffocating her. Raising her chin in a false display of confidence, Rin heaves the basket, resting it against her waist. “Now, if that’s it, I have chores I need to do.
Nezha’s still fucking here. Why is Yin Nezha still fucking here? Chaghan doesn’t seem to be even a little concerned that he has a Yin in his clan’s midst and Nezha is a trained soldier with the power of a Dragon God tattooed on his back.
Rin warned Chaghan the moment she could- she debated whether she should keep it a secret, knowing how much it cost Nezha to tell her in the first place, hell how much it took to drive him to reveal that painful secret, and she hadn’t told the others yet, not even Venka knows, but Nezha could be dangerous to these unsuspecting innocents.
And Rin doesn’t know if she has it in her to fight Nezha. She used to, but not anymore.
He followed her outside of the yurt to her annoyance, but she ignored him even with her mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of them helpful. Rin wishes Kitay was close, but surely he felt her churning emotions and would be here soon.
Batu lingered around the entrance, brightening when he saw Rin emerge.
Batu was orphaned when he was a baby with his family killed during a clash with Horse Province soldiers. Unlike most of the kids Rin has cared for, Batu doesn’t remember his parents. Rin is all he knows.
“Mama!” He cries out cheerfully, holding his arms out, asking to be held. Can Rin handle a laundry basket and a clingy five-year-old? Hell yeah, she’s the Phoenix Goddess. She swings Batu against her hip, carrying him and the laundry basket further away from Nezha. She doesn’t care how much he stares.
“Help me with the chores?” Rin asks, and Batu nods eagerly as he wraps his arms around her neck. Batu won’t be much of a help, really, but he does love helping his “mama.” Rin tried telling him she wasn’t his mama, but he was stubborn in his five-year-old way.
“Mama, who is that man?” Batu rests his chin on her shoulders, looking backward surely at Nezha, who follows.
Rin swallows, her throat dry. How does one describe Yin Nezha? He was once her fiercest rival, someone she would have reveled in causing him pain. Then he was someone she ignored until she looked death in the face. Then he was an ally, a familiar face in a foreign place where she didn’t quite understand who she was anymore. Then he was a friend, who turned into something more, someone where she wanted something more but knew she could never have. Those things weren’t for girls like her.
“He’s a friend,” Rin tells Batu simply, still unsure why Yin Nezha was here. That was all she could say about him.
“He doesn’t look at you like a friend,” Batu whispers, his hands cupped around her ear. Rin freezes momentarily, her eyes widening as it feels like there is an icy fist wrapped around her heart.
Rin will choose to ignore that. Batu is five. He thinks he is in love with silent Jiuto even though she’s more than ten years older than him. He doesn’t know what love means.
“I have to put up the blankets,” she informs Batu calmly as she sets him on the ground in front of the drying area. The string is at least eye-level, far too tall for short Batu.
“Okay,” Batu nods eagerly, leaning against the basket filled with damp blankets. Rin grabs one sheet, tossing it over the thick string as the wind and the sun will do most of the work for her.
Batu helps her by lifting the damp sheets, making it easier for her. Rin doesn’t feel old, but there are times when it feels like her back doesn’t like to bend over. The Naimad clan medics have looked at it; the source of the pain stems from the wound she sustained during the Battle of the Red Cliffs where she was shot down.
Sometimes Rin will think back to the girl who fought in Vaisra’s rebellion and wonder where she went, the girl who thought she was immortal.
Batu struggles with one of the thicker, larger fur blankets they use during winter and it’s bigger than Rin can handle. This isn’t going to be fun.
“Let me help,” Nezha murmurs as his strong fingers brush against hers. The sound of his voice, so much deeper than it was twelve years ago, in combination with the knowledge of how close he is to her, sends a shiver down Rin’s spine.
Rin meets Nezha’s eyes over the thick blanket, unsure of what all of this means. There’s a strange, fond look on his face as she examines the light-faded lines across his forehead. What did he see when he looked at her? Rin isn’t the same as she used to be, but neither is Nezha.
Rin clears her throat. “I didn’t know you had much experience doing laundry,” she teases lightly as Batu clutches the hem of her tunic. She remembers the boy on the Seagrim, confused by the need for sugar to make tangyuan.
“I can manage at least this,” Nezha responds, grabbing another blanket and throwing it over with ease. “I’m not completely useless,” Rin smirks, shaking her head. Between the two of them and Batu “helping”, they finish the basket with ease.
“Is this all you had for today?” Nezha asks, glancing at the empty basket. She shakes her head, jerking her head towards the dried laundry hanging off another set of strings.
“We have to put those away,” Batu pipes up, grinning broadly. Whatever Nezha’s done in these past fifteen minutes, he’s won Batu over already.
“Fold these,” Rin instructs, grabbing a clean sheet from the strings and folding it into a neat square. Nezha watches her, his face mystified as her hands work quickly. Here, Nezha might be less helpful. He does his best but his squares aren’t nearly as neat as Rin’s, but they fit into the basket just fine. She can fix them later.
“So if you are Mama’s friend, then how come I haven’t seen you before?” Batu asks, his hand tightly clasped with hers as they walk the filled basket back to the hut. Nezha’s holding it now since he insisted upon it. Rin won’t argue. She hardly has the energy for it, and she doesn’t want to argue in front of Batu.
Rin freezes. Some of the older people in the clan know who she is and what she’s done, but the younger kids don’t; Rin and Chaghan aren’t quite sure how to explain her to them. In true Ketreyid fashion, they raise them with the knowledge of the Pantheon but not of reaching for it, not like Rin has. They don’t know what Rin has done, or who she’s killed.
Nezha pauses, his face thoughtful as he considers his response, not even noticing Rin’s panicked eyes. “I was busy…” Nezha murmurs slowly. “There were a lot of things I had to be responsible for.”
Rin represses a snort. Busy was one word for it- Nezha was the president of the newly found Nikara Republic as he tried to reshape the country into something that could function, which reminded Rin, if Nezha was here, then who was running the country?
Batu doesn’t look very impressed. “So that means you’re not busy anymore?”
“Yes, it does.” Rin raises her head and notices Nezha staring right at her, something so earnest in his eyes. Rin jerks her gaze away. She doesn’t like it when he stares at her like that, feeling like he is expecting something from her.
“Does that mean you’re gonna be around?”
“I’m planning on it.” And well, Rin isn’t quite sure what to say about that.
True to his word, Nezha stays. And Rin isn’t sure how to feel about that. She sees him talking to Kitay, and Rin doesn’t know what is being said, but through their bond, Rin can feel that he’s not angry, nor is he sad, but he’s not happy either. He’s just Kitay.
Nezha also talks to Venka, which is a little more dramatic, with Venka yelling and crying into his shirt. Probably twelve years of unsaid words to her best friend will do that to her.
Chaghan is avoiding her, the little shithead.
She’s checked in with Ramsa, Baji, and Suni to make sure they’re all okay with Nezha being here and they’ve all stared at her as if she grew a second head.
“Why would we have a problem if Nezha was here?” Ramsa asks curiously and well, Rin doesn’t quite have an answer to that.
Suni nods in agreement while Baji studies her. Of the three, Baji knows how to read her best in disconcerting ways. Not as well as Kitay, of course. Or rather, Suni can read her, but he doesn’t bring things up unless he thinks they’re important, and then he pierces her with his questions. Baji is more casual, slowly picking her apart until the answers lie naked in front of her. They get drunk together and somehow she ends up spilling her guts to him. He knows too much.
“What’s wrong?” Baji asks as she’s brought back to a time when she feared for not only her life but Nezha’s as they waited in the Red Cliffs for Daji’s army to attack. Baji is in his late 40s now, which is far older than he ever expected to be.
But none of them expected to get this far.
“I don’t know,” she says, keeping her eyes out for Nezha. She doesn’t think he’d eavesdrop, but she can’t let him know how much he makes her nervous, how much he makes her feel weak. Vulnerable.
Nezha has always been a weak spot of hers- her feelings about him are something she can’t explain away, not even after all this time.
She also doesn’t have an answer as to why Nezha keeps following her, popping up randomly to help with her chores. Rin doesn’t like how quietly he can move, cornering her when she least expects it.
Baji exhales, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement as he grins and she scowls. He was the one who helped her realize how much she was in love with Nezha, not quite aware of or in touch with her feelings.
She knows why Nezha’s appearance throws her feelings into a whirlwind, but it’s also because she doesn’t know the reason he’s fucking here.
He makes her so unsure of herself, so unsure of the things she wants or cares about. Nezha muddles her mind.
“It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” Baji reassures her, patting her on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
But eventually, they fall into a quiet routine, a familiar pattern where Rin can feel her heart wanting once more, just by his mere presence and the sound of his voice.
With Nezha’s presence in the camp, Batu grows all the more clingy, begging to be held at all times. If he wasn’t five and so fucking adorable, Rin wouldn’t be carrying 40lbs of a cute baby.
Nezha doesn’t seem to mind though, still helping Batu with her chores and making small jokes to entertain the young child.
Rin wonders if Batu reminds him of Mingzha, the little brother Nezha so rarely spoke about.
Finally, finally, Rin corners Chaghan when he can’t escape and she’s finally alone. Nezha distracted Batu so she could escape.
“Why are you letting him stay here?” Rin asks Chaghan, rather aggressively. Nezha is Nezha, but he’s dangerous. No matter what her heart wants, she can’t trust him, no matter how much her heart wants to.
Chaghan raises a thin white brow, looking haggard, and Rin softens. He’s going to die soon. He knows it and she knows it. With Qara long dead, Chaghan said he really shouldn’t have lasted this long without an anchor bond, but in his stubborn Chaghan ways, he did.
She’s not sure what will happen next for them. When Chaghan dies, Rin can protect the Naimad clan, but the question would be if they wanted her to. She’s gotten rather attached to them so they know she would die for them, but the question is if they wanted her to.
Chaghan has an heir, a distant nephew by the name of Khentii. They’ve met a few times- he doesn’t speak much, always looking away when she glances at him. She’s not sure how he feels about them. She’d rather not leave, having grown bonded with the Naimad clan but they’ll need to decide soon.
“What do you mean by that?” Chaghan asks, sinking down into his chair tiredly. Running the Hundred Clans is no joke and Rin wishes she could help, but she’s not a Ketreyid and the power doesn’t belong in her hands.
“I mean Nezha,” Rin bites out, crossing her arms. “He’s dangerous.” Rin has to keep that in mind. She spent a lot of time going over the mythology of the Dragon God with Chaghan, who told her all he knew about the pantheon and the tales of gods in the Ketreyids’ ways. She knows the Phoenix God and the Dragon God have a fierce rivalry.
She’s never been able to silence the Phoenix God and their screeching has only gotten worse with Nezha’s arrival.
“You’re dangerous,” Chaghan points out wryly. “You think my people wanted to let you stay?”
Rin falters- yes, she and the Cike received a rather frosty reception, most likely hearing how they metaphorically set the South on fire, fleeing the shattered Southern Coalition- but this was different. Chaghan invited her to stay after rescuing them.
Chaghan sees the doubt on her face. “He’s not the president of Nikan anymore. There was an election six months ago and the transfer of power went smoothly from all the reports I’ve heard. Yin Nezha is now just a common citizen of the Republic and is free to live wherever and however he wants.”
Rin stares at him, her brain ceasing to function. What?
Nezha wasn’t the president of the Nikara Republic anymore? “But why here?” Rin asks, flustered.
“Because you’re here.”
“No, we’re not doing that,” Nezha hears Rin say pointedly to small Batu as the five-year-old brings his hand back from the flame. It’s strange seeing Rin like this. His memory of her was so different, as she was full of rage and determination. She doesn’t feel like his Rin but she feels happier.
But they’re both different after more than a decade apart.
Batu grins at her, cheerful as they sit around the fire after dinner. Living with the Naimad clan is different from what he’s used to as the second president of the Republic of Nikan, but he likes it. There is no pressure here, no meetings, no one waiting on him to save the country. Nezha never wanted power, but somehow he found himself in the most powerful position of all.
But his father couldn’t be president, not if Nikan wanted to survive as Nikan. So Nezha had to step up. All the blood, sweat, tears, and sleepless nights paid off now. Nikan had modernized with Hesperia’s aid and Nezha would hope that it didn’t cost Nikan too much. Time will only tell. He compromised where he had to, stood firm where he could, and slowly but surely, Nikan was stable. Stable enough that Nezha could step down, allow a legitimate election, and a peaceful transfer of power.
And now Nezha was free, for the first time in his life.
His eyes don’t leave Rin, as her skin glows from the light of the fire. He hadn’t seen her use the flame once his entire time here, not even to ignite the ire or entertain the children. Has she forsaken it? Something she never swore to do? Why was she willing to do it with the Naimad clan, but not for him?
Rin meets his eyes and while she doesn’t smile, it’s not the same echo of fear she had when she first saw him. Why was she afraid of him? Wasn’t she aware that it was she who had everything?
It was the thought of her who sustained him through the long nights, through the endless negotiations with the greedy Hesperians, and through the pain of the Dragon tattooed on his back. The thought of her sharp laugh filling his ears, the sight of her confident grin on his eyes, how stubborn she was, and resilient. How his heart broke when he realized she had left, that she left him.
But she was alive and in front of him. Now all Nezha needed was courage.
Kitay settles right next to him, distrust making his body stiff. His oldest friend looks older, just as they all do, with threads of white hair woven throughout his curly locks. Nezha has talked to Rin, talked to Venka, talked to Chaghan even, but he hasn’t had the chance to talk to Kitay, not to the degree that Kitay wants.
He’s even talked to Baji, Ramsa, and Suni- all three of them interrogating him on his intentions with Rin. Well, it was Baji and Ramsa with Suni lurking in the background. How they knew it was about Rin, he wasn’t sure, but then again, it was always going to be about Rin, wasn’t it?
“What are you doing here?” Kitay says, resting his forearms on his knees.
“Enjoying the campfire,” Nezha answers simply, and Kitay frowns. Nezha knows he broke a decade-long friendship with idiotic jealousy and he’s never quite been able to make up for it. Kitay tolerated him during the civil war but it was clear he was there for two reasons- Rin and revenge on Daji. They never did find Daji after the Battle of the Red Cliffs. Nezha hopes her corpse rots in an unmarked grave.
“Nezha,” Kitay says, his voice a warning tone. Nezha sighs. Kitay isn’t a threat, not to him, but Nezha would not relish hurting Kitay.
“You know why I’m here,” Nezha says and the frown on Kitay’s face deepens. Nezha doesn’t want to spell it out to Kitay- he knows, he has to know why he’s here. Kitay’s not stupid.
“She’s happy, you know,” Kitay spits out. “She’s happy here, so just leave her alone.”
Nezha keeps quiet. For all intents and purposes, she does look happier. She looks more settled. In the wake of the Third Poppy War and the civil war, Rin was a bundle of angry nerves, so easily pushed. She lashed out with her fists and her fire.
Here, with Batu in her lap and other children hanging around her, Rin looks peaceful, no longer a vicious human hurricane of emotions. But why can’t Nezha be happy too? Hasn’t he more than earned that right?
Rin meets his eyes again, flickering between him and Kitay, a small frown forming on her lips. Nezha swallows. If Rin asks him to leave, he’ll leave even if he feels his heart shatter into a million pieces because his resolve is only so strong, and if she utters another word, then he’ll be lost.
“I’ll leave but only if she asks me to,” Nezha tells Kitay firmly, “And she hasn’t told me to leave yet.” Kitay’s jaw shifts as his dark eyes bore into him, barely illuminated by the stars.
It’s so peaceful out here on the plains. In the cities, Arabak, Sinegard, Arlong, amongst countless others, the Hesperian buildings fill the streets. Nezha couldn’t see the stars anymore, not like this, with the manufactured Hesperian lights. Rin would hate it in those cities. Nezha hates it, he hates what they’ve done to his home. But Nikan’s only path forward had been through Hesperia.
But the Hesperians were no longer there. A war in their homeland brought them back, threatening their own cities and people. Nezha had roomfuls of telegraphs of an angry man’s speeches inked on hundreds of pages who dream of conquering the Consortium. He had to give the man credit. The man was an excellent orator, even if he was clinically insane.
And those who remained had perished from a mysterious plague, one borne of illnesses familiar to the Nikara people but not to Hesperians.
His successor is a kind woman with a backbone of steel. If the Hesperians come sniffing around Nikan again, she will hold her ground. She will bring Nikan forward.
The election was not an enjoyable affair. Even after a decade of peace, the candidates were sparse. So many had been removed for conspiring against the Republic, and several from the North were unpopular due to their closeness to the Hesperians. Nezha still won a quarter of the votes despite not running.
But the new president was intelligent and cunning, empathetic as well. Nikan was better off having her as their new leader.
“Kitay, I just-” Nezha cuts himself off. What he wants to say is that he wants Rin to be happy too, but he would like her to be happy with him. He’s given up so much to Nikan. Why can’t he be happy?
“Is everything alright?” Rin asks, standing in front of them. Nezha didn’t even realize that she had gotten up. He glances over to see Batu playing cheerfully with the other children.
“Everything’s fine, Rin,” Kitay answers automatically, and as if over a decade hadn’t passed, they still communicate without their words. What Rin sees in Kitay’s eyes, she doesn’t like.
“Walk with me?” She asks Nezha, who stiffens. Is she going to tell him to go? Nezha-, he’s not sure what he’ll do if she does. He’ll leave, but there’s nothing else out there for him. It’s only ever been her.
Without even blinking, Nezha stands up, towering over her. Has she always been so short? Her hair is unbound, reaching the middle of her back, and all Nezha wants to do is run his fingers through it. He’d never imagined Rin with long hair, so used to her in his memories and dreams with the rough, short chin-length hair from their time at Sinegard Academy. But it suits her in the same way that happiness does.
They step away from the camp and the cheerful noises, walking through the plains, illuminated by the moon.
“Is everything alright?”
Rin makes a noise in her throat. Her red eyes settled on the flat horizon. “Everything is fine, I felt Kitay wasn’t happy so…” So Rin came to see. She was always so protective of Kitay, it seems despite how much time had passed, that hadn’t changed anything.
Nezha was happy about that, for them, at least. Rin and Kitay are always together, never that far apart. Where Rin went, Kitay went, and where Kitay went, Rin went.
“Kitay is worried,” Nezha answers, their shoulders inches apart as they walk side by side. “He cares for you.”
“I care about him too,” Rin answers automatically, her jaw set. “But should he have to worry?”
Nezha stays quiet. He- he knows that the night Rin and the Cike left Arlong; he was going to betray her, or the possibility was there. Tarcquet had his long list of demands for continued Hesperian support and despite Rin loyally serving his father, she would never bow to the Hesperians. She would never give up her powers, even if it meant that she would survive. Those same rules were still in play in the Nikan Republic, but not even the Hesperians could stamp out the myth of the southern Phoenix Goddess.
Nezha doesn’t want to tell Rin this. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He loves her. Of this, he’s certain. “It’s Kitay,” he says listlessly. “He does that.”
Rin doesn’t quite look convinced as she looks away, her bright red eyes gleaming in the darkness.
“Are you here to take us back to the republic?” Rin murmurs, her shoulders stiff with fear. “We’re not a threat anymore, Nezha. You don’t have to do that.”
“What?”
What? Did Rin really think that he was going to-? What?
“I’m not here to take you back,” Nezha sputters out. “I’m here to be with you.”
“What?”
“Rin,” Nezha says, truly aghast. How could she ever possibly think that?
“What do you mean to be with me?” Rin screeches, a flash of anger that was more familiar to Nezha.
“Who else but you?” And it was true. There was no one else for Nezha but Rin. He’d never known anyone like her.
Rin shakes her head, backing away from him, her face scrunched up- almost adorable in confusion. “Nezha-”
This is the moment, Nezha realizes. It is now or never and Nezha has waited too long to be a coward. Nezha closes in, tilting her chin upward with strong fingers so that she looks into his eyes. “Rin-” He whispers, his voice soft. “Please.” Her bright red eyes are wide with fear as she reckons with what she must have known, somehow. She wets her dark lips, staring at him desperately.
Rin shakes her head, trembling under his touch.
“Rin.”
“Say it. I want to hear it.”
Nezha can do that, words that he’s longed to say for years, words he’s yearned to say if he ever got the opportunity to do it, to see her again. He has the courage now.
“I love you.”
EPILOGUE
Rin traces a dark finger on the silver-white Dragon tattoo on his back. “Does it still hurt you?” She asks Nezha, comfortably naked and buried in the furs of her yurt. Yin fucking Nezha loved her, apparently, enough so that he chased her down through an entire country to find her.
“Yes,” Nezha nods, kissing her on the forehead. “It doesn’t like you touching it,” he murmurs and Rin snorts, shaking her head. The Phoenix God didn’t exactly like her sharing the same bed as Nezha, but tough luck. She was perfectly happy sharing her bed with him.
The others teased her when she walked back with him to the fire, hands intertwined, but she also saw triumphant grins from bets won so what else were they expecting? Kitay and Venka only shook their heads, explaining to the confused younger generation that this was almost two decades coming.
Nezha curled around her, sharing a blanket offered by Suni as she rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying her time with her family, listening to Baji and Ramsa chatter around them, and then they went to bed together for the first time for the rest of their lives.
After almost thirteen years of looking over her shoulder in fear of being hunted down like a rabid animal as she fought to survive, here she was with the Republic’s second president in her bed. Who would have thought?
It was fine. Here they were, unburdened by their past but unsure of their future. But Fang Runin and Yin Nezha would be together even if all the odds were against them.