Lyla watches Maude stomp away from the cabin, defining bittersweet. She sighs and stands very still. The weight of it all threatens to crush her, snuff her out. She groans loudly and gives the front door of the cabin a swift kick. The pain shooting through her shattered toenail elicits a garbled shriek. She clamps the back of her hand to her mouth, biting hard on her knuckles, as she slowly ;spins to make sure she was not heard by Maude during her exit. Seeing no signs of her, Lyla drops to the ground and lies on her back, defeated. Thinking of their departing conversation makes her vision go misty, she can’t believe how poorly the last days has gone between them. Her hands dig into the dusty soil beneath her. They are finally, finally making progress in a way that matters. They should be sharing the joy of the work. She feels the damp, grainy soil caking her skin and lodging itself deep under her fingernails, it’s disgusting, and it’s deserved.
The blacksmith is the kindest and smartest and most loyal person to have Lyla’s back… She’s the… Lyla fights every fiber of her being to stop from springing to her feet and sprinting after the angry woman, but she doesn’t move an inch. This is it, this is the plan. Everyone will be safer this way. Her breathing steadies and she becomes aware of the salty, sticky residue from the tears and sweat, covering her body in a thin layer along with the rest of the grime. She slowly wrenches her hands from the earth, and she swears she can feel tiny legs crawling all over, and she makes no move to clean herself off. She hugs her knees to herself and slumps into them, and her eyelids drop.
—
“Well now, what do we have here, sleeping at this time of day? Explains the reputation with punctuality I guess. Or, don’t tell me, you went and started the fun all by yourself!” Jasmine’s projected voice startles Lyla awake and she awkwardly lurches as she tries to jump to her feet. Jasmine can barely speak between laughing.
“I know - you said - blend in - but I didn’t -,” the hilarity seems to overtake her and she has to lean against the cabin door.
“Calm down. A-and keep it down while you’re at it. I haven’t had any ‘fun’ thank you very much, but you know that. Do you think the look is too much?” Lyla forces a smile, and strikes a pose that lasts half a blink before she slumps back..
“No, no it looks very convincing given the state of some of the worse for wear areas of the city, unfortunately. Though I’m not sure you needed to commit quite so hard…” Jasmine shrugs as she trails off, and narrows her eyes at the cabin door.
“Someone tried to break in,” she announces definitively, after a brief pause. Frustration and embarrassment course through Lyla, as the perceptive genius drops to a squat. “Seriously come over here. It looks like they weren’t particularly clever about it either, they just tried to kick the door in, and from the bottom!” Lyla met the smirking women’s eyes, and too much information exchanges between them. “Oh, no, Lyla…Why? Who did you bring with you?” Silence settles between them. “I told you to bring anyone else.” Jasmine finishes her thought at a near whisper. The taller woman moves and puts her arm around Lyla.
“There isn’t anyone else who could do it or I could trust, and -,” Lyla pauses mid sentence as Jasmine purses her lips and raises her eyebrows, a knowing look in her eyes. “I should have told her, but I didn’t want to argue, because I know what has to be done, I do, and I didn’t know if I would win, and-,” the words spew from her mouth before she can stop them, and immediately Lyla is filled with regret. She has to be above this kind of thing. Jasmine lowers her forehead and meets Lyla’s eyes with a different, more intense gaze, still with the spark of amusement remaining.
“I promise you she’ll forgive you, but you really shouldn’t take that for granted. Right now we have a job to do, I assume she was fully briefed before you, uh, parted ways?” Taking a moment to harden herself, Lyla slowly nods.
“She knows enough, but she will… She will figure out the rest of the plan once she gets to the barracks.” Lyla does her best to keep her voice steady, confident. Jasmine eyebrows stay raised, but she nods hesitantly in return.
“As long as the Smoke gets the message to start we should be fine. But this whole little situation? It’s a mistake. A stupid, unnecessary, risk increasing mistake, President Ayala. The former President Ayala, would not have been so reckless, so flighty, so undisciplined. I’m sure you see what I am saying.” Jasmine stresses her syllables, as though worried she would talk too quickly and be misunderstood. Lyla rolls her eyes, and throws the cabin door open, striding to her bag and rummaging to the bottom.
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“Well the former president can give his confident, bold critique when he returns. And besides, did he ever treat you like I do,” she reveals a small canvas pouch dangling between her fingers, and Jasmine lightly claps her hands. She snatches it and quickly peers inside, a broad smile covering her face before being replaced by the typical veneer of amusement.
“He certainly never treated me like this, that’s for sure.” She winks and plucks one of the dried white flowers and carefully rolls it between her index and thumb, watching it crumple back down into the pouch. The infatuation she is seeing gives Lyla a brief moment of consideration, but she swings the backpack on and marches out of the door.
“Don’t crush it all in one place, and maybe not right just now, we do have a city to burn.” She hears Jasmine chuckling and striding to catch up. The walk to the city is short, but remote enough to be most likely free of any eavesdroppers, so they use the opportunity to run through the specifics one last time.
“The Smoke have the targets picked and the civilians prepped, our info suggests an influx of soldiers have moved south, and Foster should have no issue getting me into the cell,” she phrases each statement as a near question, giving Jasmine the chance to dispute.
“Yes, yes, and yes, well mostly, Foster is MIA so we are relying on Chase Conrad,” Jasmine speaks quickly and does not meet Lyla’s eyes. Wide-eyed, Lyla stops in her tracks.
“What do you mean MIA?”
“Missing In Action.” Jasmine winces even as the words leave her mouth, and they clearly hit harder than intended.
“Was he doing an assignment, something dangerous, going for a swim, do we have any idea? Was he captured by our hog fascist government? Is he being held in a prison? Please, I would love to know any more info you just happen to be sitting on.” The tone was sheer condescension and the patronization grew with each word. “Been crushing a bit too much, messing with your memo-,” Lyla trails off, and she lowers her eyes. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have…”
Jasmine moves so they are standing face to face. She slowly raises both hands palm first, and slowly places them on Lyla’s shoulders. She speaks carefully, and softly.
“I understand you’re going through a hard time. Clearly much, much harder than even you realize yourself. Again, I understand that, and I am your friend and I am here for you Lyla, I care for you.” The tension of the incoming ‘but’ nearly makes Lyla flinch. “But. First, we have jobs to do, and important ones. I have accepted the responsibility and all that comes with it, including trusting my fellow Mission members. You have as well, so act like it. Second. If you ever, and I mean ever at all, let any mention of myself and ‘crushing’ pass between your lips, they will not be so pretty when I’m done with them. Your rank and your knight in shining armor do not scare me, and I sure as hell will not be blackmailed by a damn drug dealer.” She lets out one shaky breath, and turns without letting Lyla reply, continuing toward the city. Lyla walks a few paces back before eventually wordlessly catching up. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small, wrapped piece of hookfruit cake, the last of the batch Maude had made. It just may be the greatest thing Lyla had ever tasted, and she had been really looking forward to the last two-bite piece.
She hands it to Jasmine who casually throws the whole thing in her mouth, nodding and scrunching her eyebrows as she chews.
“That was actually like, really good. You have some sort of talent, honestly.” Jasmine blurts the praise immediately after finishing the cake.
Lyla shrugs, and puts on a smile she hopes rivals the consistent smirk from the other woman. They continue walking, with the tension severed, and all but falling away.
“So, Chase Conrad.” She meets Jasmine’s eyes for just a moment before returning them to the road.
“I promise you, I have vetted him, I have investigated the situation, this is our best bet, He has better access than anyone else we can even remotely trust, and he doesn't have a lot of friends.” Lyla opens her mouth, but in a rare act closes it without saying anything. “You will meet him right outside the Crown, he’ll be posted at one of the exterior doors. Just get his attention and then he’ll follow you, introduce himself, and escort you up. Clean and easy.”
“If you say so.”
The sun is setting as the city proper comes into view from the break in the trees. The dozens upon dozens of rows of densely packed, identically built small square buildings are blanketed in a soft orange glow. From the market to the houses, every structure is draped in cloth banners, emblazoned with the yellows and reds of Ravha. The entire city appears aflame within the landscape, but Lyla tries her best to ignore such blatant foreshadowing. Besides, they aren’t even going to actually burn down the city really, completely.