Sage knows she will forever be burdened by the guilt of obligation.
Never will she be absolved of her duties to protect when they are engraved across every crevice of her identity, never to be erased or scrubbed away, always there to remind her what she is made for. Sage is not made for the sake of being loved or cared for tenderly. The world has not intended for her to know how it feels to be healed from the wounds that trace her skin, she isn't even supposed to bleed. She is meant to stand like stone until she is chipped away at, too eroded to be recognized.
There is nothing else she feels other than an inexplicable sense of peace when she falls. None of it is injustice because it is a birthright. Sage has accepted that she is made to keep others from falling rather than keep from falling herself.
But oh, when this woman looks at her like she sees the world in the color of her eyes, Sage begins to be foolish enough to wonder if perhaps she deserves more than she knows. The relief of being used has begun to pale in comparison to the indescribable emotion she feels in the late afternoons when Skye holds her. In those late afternoons when the sun has begun to set and Skye hums a tune by her ear, Sage might just let herself believe that this woman can rewrite her purpose. Because who else can change it if not her?
Her, the most free person Sage has ever seen. Her, with the face traced with freckles given to her by the sun, charted on her cheeks like stars by a sailor in a storm. And her, the woman who still wears the scars gained over the years with pride but has never stopped changing the jewelry she's had in her brow since they were barely more than children running in grassy fields. When Sage looks at her, she sees the will of the earth itself.
Sage doesn't wish to be helped, she has accepted what must be. Skye is the only one who has not accepted it, and Sage cannot manage to argue with her when her words come straight from her heart and are imbued with radiance that feels warm like the sun.
The only woman who might be able to change her is the only woman who has never asked a single thing from her.
Sage just can't understand why she'd willingly pick up her shattered pieces and place them back together, cutting her hands on her jagged edges, when there is absolutely nothing for her to gain.
The next time that Sage falls on the field, she finds that the relief she once felt from fufilling her duty is absent.
There is only pain from gravel wedged in her wounds for a brutal second. Pain sears through her for only that mere second before her body feels brought alight with radiance. Not for a second does she doubt who it's from. Before she can feel her touch, before she can hear her voice, she recognizes her. In no world would she not be able to.
Skye's radiance is nurturing, familiar and soft, overfilling the empty crevices where Sage's radiance has been lost. Skye cradles her with her arms and with the most precious part of her being.
When Sage's eyes flutter open, her vision foggy around the edges, she finds Skye is still kneeling there like she always promises she will be. Her hand is on her cheek and her face is contorted in concern- genuine and truthful. Sage doesn't even have to look down to know that in kneeling here with her her knees must be getting scraped by the gravel too. She is in discomfort for her sake. She is scared.
Sage doesn't know when the tears begin slip from her own eyes. She won't ask Skye, either. She just knows it's some time before Skye calls for help and some time after Skye draws her head close to her chest like she's just come home after decades apart.
"You're okay, Ling. I've gotcha." Sage hears Skye say in that gentle concerned voice that she has come to cherish. "Bloody oath. You aren't going anywhere. Not after you pulled that shit on me." Strong arms pull Sage ever closer as if her body is fragile and precious rather than unbreakable. She could leave her so easily and yet she doesn't. She doesn't let Sage crumble. Skye presses her face against Sage's shoulder and Sage can't think of a time when she felt safer. Her voice is so soft it almost lulls Sage's deepest fears into submission, even when she exclaims about how badly she scared her doing what she did- she's soft even when she doesn't need to be. Because of that, Sage believes her if only for a second on that battlefield in her arms.
She is okay.
She is worth loving.
Sage nods. She's alright.
To allow herself to be cared for is still difficult but she finds it's quite easy to wrap her arms up around Skye's shoulders. It feels even easier to listen to her breathe while her chest rises and falls against her.
Skye holds Sage close to her like she's everything to her just as she always does, only this time, Sage is starting to accept that she may just be.