when the moon fell in love with the sun

The Empress remained silent as Iolaire worked, though she continued to ache with a need to make her better. She refrained from whining like a spoiled puppy, and stood still as she was worked on. Io’s touch was gentle, practiced, and Deathbelle nary flinched throughout the procedure.

She wasn’t so caught up in her own terrors that she didn’t fail to notice Iolaire’s drastic change in behavior. She was shaking, she was manic, and Deathbelle couldn’t do anything. Her heart beat heavily in her chest with frustration as she averted her lilac gaze. She caught a glimpse of Io’s features as she tended the delicate skin of the Empress’s face.

”I am fine, Io.” She reassured her softly but kept the normal affection from her voice. She was serious, and knew if the woman wouldn’t allow her to tend that she needed to go and do so herself. ”Go.” It was the first command Deathbelle had issues to her friend. ”Tend yourself.” To prove her point Belle stepped back from her ailing love and tossed her head in dismissal. She hated doing it, and knew the frustration with the situation would linger long after Iolaire disappeared.